My Name Is Karma Read online

  Marva stood frozen in shock as she watched her little girl’s arm change before her eyes to something resembling a Frankenstein experiment. She spun as fast as she could and screamed at me.

  “Stop it! I said stop it! I know you’re doing this!” As she rushed over to her daughter, I felt two pairs of arms grab me and began to pull me away.

  “Come on Karma.” I heard the soothing voice of Mam as though she spoke through a thick cotton fog. “It’s time to go.”

  I vaguely remember them leading me back to the station wagon and us driving away. During the drive home, I felt as if I were in a trance. Everything felt surreal. I don’t even remember arriving at the house or anything for the rest of that evening.

  The next morning when I woke up, I felt as if I had been dreaming. It was all a dream, I told myself. I couldn’t have done that.

  I stumbled out of bed vigorously rubbing my eyes as if to wipe away the bad dream. I slipped my feet into my comfortable bedroom slippers and walked slowly to the kitchen. I found Mam and Aunt Vern sitting at the kitchen table with their heads pressed together as if joined in some sort of secret conference. When they heard my footsteps, they both stared at me. Mam was the first to speak.

  “How do you feel, Karma?” Her voice was tinged with worry and tension but her face reflected a certain stillness and peace.

  “Um, I feel okay?” It was more of a question than a statement.

  Aunt Vern came over and guided me to the table.

  “Sit, child.” Her voice sounded stern but concerned. She shared the same peaceful facial expression as Mam, however.

  Mam had poured some brown liquid out of the tea kettle into a chipped tea cup and handed it over to me. Avoiding the chipped part, I took the cup and sipped a bit of the liquid. Although it was clear, it felt like thick hot chocolate going down my throat. It was sweet and savory and made me think of Christmas.

  I put the cup down and glanced at the both of them, my eyes settling on Mam.

  “What happened yesterday?” I asked, looking back and forth between the both of them.

  “Oh, honey” she consoled, moving over closer to me. “We sort of knew this would happen, but we didn’t know the full extent of it.”

  Aunt Vern piped up. “Yes, but we had to see, Stormie. Now we know what we’re working with.”

  Understanding broke through my clouded brain. “You guys experimented on me?!” I felt myself getting hysterical quickly. “But the little girl! What I did to her! But…”

  Mam placed her hand on my arm to try to calm me.

  “It’s ok, baby. We undid it.” I looked at the both of them confused. “What?”

  Aunt Vern leaned on the side of the counter as she looked at me with her head tilted to one side, as if she were examining a peculiar painting in a museum. After a short silence, she spoke again.

  “We had to know, Karma.” She spoke with softness now. “We had to know how you would respond to your feelings. We had to know what might trigger you and how you would react, so yes, we deliberately placed you in a situation we knew would cause some sort of effect.” She paused and took a deep breath, her eyes turned to the ceiling as if searching for the right words to say.

  “We now know why your name was chosen for you.” The confused expression on my face prompted her to stand and move closer to me. “You’re called Karma because that’s who you are. That’s what you do. You bring retribution to the things happening around you. We just didn’t know you would be able to do it so quickly and so intensely.”

  I looked from Aunt Vern to Mam and back to Aunt Vern. “So, what you’re saying is, I embody cause and effect?”

  “Yes,” Mam chimed in. “You reacted to what she said to you, which, by the way, was cruel.”

  “You heard what she said?” My voice sounded small as I spoke.

  “Yes, child,” Aunt Vern answered. “We were right there. We experienced the whole thing.” She looked over at Mam and smiled. “We may not have been able to reverse what happened to the little girl but we were able to cause a diversion long enough for me to wipe her and her mother’s memory.”

  I stared at them with horror written all over my face. Aunt Vern explained.

  “I gave them both a powerful amnesia concoction that I brewed up. They’ll think she was born that way.”

  “Well, it serves her mom right talking to you that way.” Mam sounded angry. I saw her eyebrows narrow and a frown. “She shouldn’t have called you names. She shouldn’t have said what she did.”

  “But it was her child, Stormie.” I sat in silence as Aunt Vern and Mam debated the morality of what I did. I was still in shock as the events of yesterday played over in my mind. I did that. I could do that. Should I do that? Can I control it? What if it gets worse? What else am I capable of?

  A plethora of thoughts and worries flooded my brain as I wrestled with what I was capable of. That second, I decided I needed to stay away from people to avoid anything similar happening again.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I chose not to pursue my master’s in person, but online during the next couple of years. I mainly stayed inside the house with Mam and Aunt Vern, helping with Aunt Vern’s exotic gardening business. I learned a lot about her various species of plants and the properties they could have, the diseases they could cure, and the way they worked on the various senses of a person. I apparently shocked Aunt Vern a few times, because I had a knack for making plants grow. I didn’t tell Mam or Aunt Vern that I could also create plants without thinking much about it, nor did I reveal that I noticed I had some ability to control the weather like Mam. To tell the truth, the more I noticed about myself, the more afraid of my gifts I became.

  One bright Sunday morning a year later, I awoke to the smell of eggs and bacon wafting into my room. I opened my eyes and sprang up, knowing Mam and Aunt Vern were in the kitchen again. I quickly put on my bedroom slippers and robe and walked towards the kitchen.

  Mam and Aunt Vern were there, talking excitedly. Mam was over the frying pan with the bacon and half of Aunt Vern’s body disappeared in the pantry, while the other half’s hand waved around as she spoke.

  “What’s all the excitement about?” I asked as I strolled over to where Mam had already taken some of the perfectly cooked bacon and rested them on a paper towel to drain. I eyed the bacon and mischievously waited until Mam turned to answer Aunt Vern. As I reached over to snatch a slice, Mam slapped my hand. She smiled at me. “Wait, child. We’re almost ready.”

  My face fell as I slumped over to the dining table to wait to be served my breakfast. My thoughts were preoccupied with images of juicy bacon and I was listening to the melodic rumbles of my empty stomach, so much so I blocked out most of what was being said until the words “pack” and “trip” floated into my subconscious.

  “Trip?” I perked up.

  Mam came over with a plate piled with perfectly cooked bacon and scrambled eggs and one pancake—my favorite breakfast. She sat down and smiled at me.

  “Yes, child, we’re going on a trip!” The excitement raised her voice to an octave higher than I’d ever heard her speak. Her eyes sparkled, and she bounced a bit when she said it.

  “We’re going on a trip?” I naively asked in shock. Mam never took trips. Period. Although she was coping better with her disorder, she left her travels to the surrounding area—local supermarkets and outdoor stores. Occasionally, she and Aunt Vern would visit a small movie theatre outside of town or enjoy dinner as some local restaurants. They never went on trips, however.

  “Not we,” Aunt Vern corrected as she moved over to the table with plates for Mam and herself, “your mother and I.”

  I stared over at both of them shocked. “You’re going to take a trip without me?”

  “Well,” Mam spoke in a slightly embarrassed tone, “we have to do this alone.” She nodded at Aunt Vern. “Just last night we got a note from your Aunt Carol.” Mam reached into the pocket of her simple robe and pulled out a folded sheet of lavender pa
per. I took the paper from her dressing gown and flipped the soft paper open to read.

  We’ve got news. You and Fern have to come. Immediately. You know the place.

  Carol

  I refolded the note and glanced curiously at them. “I have an Aunt Carol?”

  Aunt Vern let out a slight chuckle as she patted my hand. “Yes, child. You have many family members. Well, not many. A few.” She got up, disappeared for a moment into the living room and came back with a dusty, leather-bound, thick album. She flicked though the pages until she reached a certain photo. She pulled it from its plastic sleeve and turned it towards me with one bony finger tapping one of the people in the photo. “Here’s a picture of the girls in our family.”

  The lady she pointed to was one of five on the page. They all smiled brightly, their arms looped over each other as if in a chorus line. I scanned the photo and noticed a much younger version on Mam on the far left and Aunt Vern next to her. The one Aunt Vern tapped in the middle was Aunt Carol, who had a proud stance. She was an eccentric-looking lady with a shock of red hair, complete with silver roots—hair which frizzed out in every direction, only held together by a white sequined headband. Her round and jolly face with high cheekbones had morphed into a huge smile, her sparkling eyes shining in the old photograph. She wore a gaudy necklace with bulky blue and green stones and a threadbare brown and red cloth overcoat covering a simple cream dress.

  Next to her, in the photograph, were two other ladies I didn’t know. The one to Aunt Carol’s immediate right looked like a much younger version of Aunt Vern, even more so of her in that photo. The frumpy dress remained the same, but she was shorter and rounder than Aunt Vern. Her brown hair was pulled up high on her head and overflowed into a messy ponytail which covered one side of her face. She also wore glasses and had a bright smile. The other lady in the photo was glamorous. She had straight black hair and stood erect. Although her face also carried the look of mirth shared by the other four, her exotic dark eyes were fixed in a gaze which could probably chill one’s soul when she wasn’t smiling. She had a voluptuous figure and wore a simple black sweater that barely covered her slim waist. She wore a matching black mini over a pair of long caramel legs and three-inch black wedges, which made her tower over the other ladies.

  “Who are these other two?” I turned the photo back to Aunt Vern and pointed to the other ladies in the photo.

  “Oh, this one,” Aunt Vern tapped on the round one closest to Aunt Carol, “is your Aunt Arihi. Her nickname was Shugs. Like ‘sugar’? She could make the best desserts; delicacies that made your tongue do a dance of delight when you tasted them! This other one,” she tapped on the exotic lady on the far end, “is your aunt Kilee. We call her Amour. She had a way of making any guy fall for her.”

  I took the picture and studied each of them in turn once again. They all looked so young and innocent, with the exception of Aunt Amour of course. There was nothing innocent-looking about her.

  “So, are they still alive?” My curiosity had reached a peak, knowing now I had other family members.

  “As far as we know,” Mam answered. “Your Aunt Shugs lives up north where she owns a successful bakery. She gets orders from around the world for her treats. Your Aunt Amour, well, the last we heard of her, had travelled to Paris to chase a career in acting and modeling. She was constantly being courted by all the top agencies, so she decided to leave when she was about seventeen. That’s the last we heard of her. Your uncle Fetu disappeared when we were younger. Your other uncle Lelei stayed until we all left. He moved to Florida to work at Sea World. He always loved the water. As for Pap and Mam, Pap still lives on the island. Unfortunately, Mam died after Shugs was born.”

  I glanced at the picture on the table one last time and up at the both of them again. “So, where are you two going?”

  “We can’t tell you, not yet.” Aunt Vern picked up the photo and placed it back into its slot in the album. “It’s not that we don’t want to, it’s just it wouldn’t be safe for right now.”

  “Safe? What do you mean? Are we in danger?” I could feel panic rising in my throat.

  “No, no child.” Mam reached over and patted my hand. “There’s no danger. It’s just we’ve been searching for evidence of what happened on the island after we…left.” She threw a quick glance at Aunt Vern. “Your Aunt Carol wrote this note to say she thinks she found something. We’re just going to go to check it out to see if it’ll provide some answers for us.” Although I still felt scared, Mam’s soft smile and reassuring facial expression calmed my fears a bit.

  “So, how long will you be gone?”

  “We’ll only be gone for about a week. I promise.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Tonight.”

  “Tonight?” I felt the panic begin to rise in my throat again. “Why so soon?”

  Aunt Vern spoke up. “We have to follow this lead. It’s urgent and time sensitive.” She patted my hand and rose from the table with the album. Mam followed suit and got up. I guessed the discussion was over. After they left the table, I sat for a few more moments and then barricaded myself in my room for the rest of the day.

  That evening, I sat in the back seat of the old wagon as we drove to the airport. At the departure gate, I lurked gloomily behind as they checked in. As I watched them now, I noticed I wasn’t the only one sharing in the sadness of being separated. At times, I noticed Mam looking at me with despondency in her eyes. I wondered about this. It was only a short trip, right? If it was, why did she look so sad? Maybe it’s because she never left me before. But she is coming back, right? I was tempted to ask her but my irritation at being left behind for such an important and so-called “time-sensitive” mission got the better of me, and I kept my mouth shut.

  At the entrance to the security check, I had to leave them. I briefly hugged Aunt Vern and Mam. As I was about to let go of Mam, she held me tighter. I could feel dampness on her cheek as it pressed against mine. I breathed in her scent of lavender and vanilla. She whispered so softly in my ear I felt as if I had imagined it.

  “Take care of yourself, Karma. I love you so much. If you ever need me, just look in the storm. I’ll be there.”

  She let me go and turned abruptly towards the security line. Aunt Vern smiled at me one last time before she joined Mam. I watched them disappear into the throngs of people waiting to be cleared by TSA.

  Why did she sound as if she was saying a final good-bye?

  CHAPTER NINE

  The next day dragged on like a movie playing in slow motion. I read into the late hours, rising again to a bright beautiful day. I left the house to pick up some groceries at a supermarket and was gone for about an hour and a half. When I returned to the house, I noticed the light on Aunt Vern’s old school answering machine blinking. I dropped the groceries to the kitchen floor and ran over to it. I pressed the Play Messages button once.

  Beep.

  Karma, this is your mother. We arrived safe. Don’t worry about us. We’re meeting up with Carol in a bit. I hope you are well. Talk to you soon.

  Beep.

  In the message, I could hear the sounds of car horns in the background. It was noisy, as though she were standing outside on a busy street. I played the message again, just to hear her voice. It was strange how I could miss someone so much who had just left.

  The next two days passed by without any phone calls. I studied and wandered around the house like a soul lost after departing its body, with worry grinding at the back of my brain. I wondered why Mam hadn’t called. Maybe she was in a place without cell reception. Maybe she was busy. Several thoughts and possibilities flooded my brain as I pondered in the deafening silence.

  On the fifth day after they’d left, I had just arrived home from driving to clear my head. I walked in to see the red light blinking from the answering machine again. Dropping my purse on the sofa, I rushed over to the machine and pressed the message button. After the beep, the sound of static filled the air
as if pure electricity was buzzing around me. I could barely hear Mam’s voice coming through.

  Beep.

  Kar…ma…I (cackle) can’t…back. Aunt (ppssshhh cackle) in trouble. Look (ppssshhhh) bed. Help…

  Beep.

  The message abruptly ended. Blood from my racing heart pounded hard in my ears, drowning out all other sounds. I thought I didn’t hear the message properly. I replayed it three more times to make sure what I heard was correct. I paced up and down the living room after replaying the message countless times. What was she saying? What did she mean she couldn’t return? Who was in trouble?

  I wanted to scream until my throat collapsed. What had happened? What could I do? How could I help?

  I didn’t know the answer to any of these questions. I didn’t know where they were. I had no contact with Aunt Carol, nor did I know how to reach her. Call the police maybe? No, I couldn’t call the police. What would I tell them? They had left for a trip and didn’t tell me where they were going? I would get laughed off the phone.

  All I had was the note from Aunt Carol.

  I rushed into Mam’s room and found her robe hanging on a hook at the back of her door. I felt around in the pocket and found the small piece of paper. Yanking it out, I almost tore it as I scrambled to open it.

  It was blank.

  My eyes stared in disbelief as I felt the paper where words were neatly printed just six days ago. There was no trace of there even being anything written on the paper—no pen impressions, no suggestions of ink. I held the paper up to the light, turning it over and over in my hands.

  Nothing.

  I breathed on it, hoping that maybe it would react to warm air.