The Knowing: Awake in the Dark Read Online Free

energy. I remember one afternoon not long after the Cool Whip episode our parents took us on a rare family outing to the Japanese Tea Gardens in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park.
    Before we left the car our mother turned to the back seat giving stern directives for the day.
    “Remember to hold hands at all times until we reach the park. Karina, you hold Isla’s hand and Maggie and Nita hold hands. Do not talk to strangers under any circumstance, do you understand?” She asked.
    “Yes, ma’am.” We said in unison.
    “And I will only tell you ONE time to do something,” she said staring us down. “Do I make myself clear?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Isla, don’t let me catch you picking up any goddamn gum. And you girls better behave,” she warned pointing her finger at us. We muttered our yes ma’am’s and shook our heads in agreement.
    We were not allowed to chew gum at home and Isla’d had a bad habit of finding discarded gum on sidewalks plucking it from the ground and popping the already chewed wad into her mouth. Our mother railed at Isla when she did this screaming, “You’ll get worms, Isla! That is a disgusting habit! Stop it, I mean it Isla!”
    That summer Isla, Maggie and I had been searched for worms more than once. The hunt for the tiny worms began at night and consisted of our mother bending us over without our panties in a darkened room. She’d spread our bare cheeks and shine a flashlight on our exposed bums to see if we had the worms. This was a traumatic event always starting and ending in tears.
    Our mother was an R.N. working at a doctor’s office which may have been the reason she was so vigilant.
    That day at the tea gardens we ran around screeching with delight racing down the tiny winding paths and curved bridges that went over and alongside of a stream filled with giant koi-fish.
    I spotted Isla squatting at the stream’s edge watching intently as the fish swam languidly past. I sidled up next to her to see what was so intriguing and Isla said, “Look at that fish. He’s the happiest fish in there.”
    “But how do you know?” I’d asked looking into her wide blue eyes.
    “Because he told me so and he’s shinier than the others, it means he’s happiest, see?” She said pointing at the fish.
    I saw a golden fish with beautiful black spots and shiny skin that reflected the sun, but he looked like all the others who swam past. As I gazed at the fish in the gurgling stream, Isla nudged me and said in a whisper, “look, I have something for you.” She opened her sweaty palm and there in the middle of it was a pale green morsel of previously chewed gum.
    “Here,” she offered. “It’s for you.”
    I snatched the sticky wad and plopped it happily into my mouth. “Thanks, Isla!”
    “Don’t let mom see or she’ll give you the worms.” Isla warned.
    I didn’t know that Isla had the gift of the Clairs that manifested through animals, but she did and she would use it for the rest of her life.
    An intensely private person, my mother did not offer insight into her past. As a woman, I discovered that my mother had low self-esteem, self-loathing, and a general inability to cope with children. These traits were well hidden, mostly from herself. She had a photo album that was black with gold lettering on the front that read: “PORTRAITS of Caroline Penry.” The large hardcover book was filled with 12x10 black and white photos of her from three months of age to twenty-one years old. Among the images, was a picture of her mother, my grandmother, clad in shimmering sequins with a matching headband and veil. I was fascinated with the album because the pictures were beautiful—complete with elegant poses, fancy clothes, and ornate jewelry—and provided the only window into my mother’s past.
    One afternoon I eagerly opened the book, pointed to photos and asked my mother, “Is this you?”
    “Yes,” she replied.
    Then I reached a photo of a smiling woman who was grossly fat. I