Stranger With My Face (14 page)

It was almost noon when we arrived back at Cliff House. We put away the bikes and entered through the back door. The clack
of Dad’s computer told us that he was busy making up for the time he had lost the previous evening. I found myself resenting
the fact that he could divide his life up so easily. When he was writing he wasn’t worried about anything or anyone except
the people in his book.

Mom was in the living room feeding used Christmas wrapping paper into the fireplace. She answered my question before I could
ask it.

“No, Mr. Rankin hasn’t called back.”

“Do you think I should call him?”

“No, I don’t,” Mom said. “When there’s news, he’ll let you know, and until then it’s better that his line stays open in case
Jeff tries to reach him.” There was sympathy in her voice. “There’s nothing to do but wait, honey. I know how hard that is.
Meg’s in the kitchen making lunch. Why don’t you and Neal go get something?”

“I’m not hungry,” I said.

“Then how about helping me with this cleanup? Like Dad said, it’s better if you can keep yourself busy.”

So for the next quarter hour I picked up boxes and paper and ribbons and helped Mom burn them. Then I collected the gifts
I had received that morning and carried them to my room. On any other such occasion I would have taken this opportunity to
examine and enjoy them, but today I merely piled them into the bookcase and dresser. Then I just stood there, at a loss as
to what to do with myself. The long afternoon lay ahead of me, and then the evening. Surely there would be word of Jeff ’s
whereabouts by dinnertime. He had to go home to eat, didn’t he? Or, if he didn’t, he would call his father. He had probably
gone off somewhere, not even pausing to think that he would be worrying anyone. But—

But where on earth could someone find to go on Christmas?

My head was beginning to ache, and the room seemed suddenly to be closing in on me. Impulsively, I slid open the door and
stepped out onto the balcony. The cold salt air struck me, full and damp, and I shivered uncontrollably. It seemed a million
years ago that I had stood in this same spot with the September sun streaming down upon me, watching the tiny boats dart across
the satin surface of the summer sea.

Today the ocean was gray and empty. Even now at midday the fog lay thick across it, obscuring the dividing line between the
water and sky. I moved to the railing and turned my gaze to the slick, dark rocks below me. “You don’t go out there, do you?”
Jeff had asked.

Now the question in reverse occurred to me. Was it possible that Jeff might have tried to walk out on those rocks last night?

Of course not,
I told myself. Jeff wasn’t stupid. He was completely aware of the danger.
He
was the one who warned
me
.

But—what if he did attempt it?
a silent voice screamed within my head. What if for some crazy reason he did?

He didn’t. He couldn’t have.

It was at that moment I saw it, a spot of color where no bright color should have been. A touch of red against the dullness
of the black and brown and green, it lay beneath me, a little to the left.

I saw it. And I knew.

I left the balcony, not even taking time to close the sliding doors, and hurried through my room and down the stairs. Neal
and I had left our parkas in the entrance hall. I snatched mine up and was still thrusting my arms into the sleeves as I let
myself out into the bleak December afternoon.

Once outside, I broke into a run along the path by the side of the house. It terminated where it met the rocks, and that was
where I found them—two books, set carefully one on top of the other.

One had a red cover.

So Jeff hadn’t forgotten, he hadn’t let me down. He had come as he had said he would—this far and no farther. Then he had
set down the books and—gone where?

There could only be one answer. Slowly, I moved across the flat surface of the ledge, my eyes on the drop-off that led to
the lower tiers of rock. I knew the spot where Neal had once fallen, and I headed there, bracing myself for what it was that
I might find. My legs felt weak, and my mouth was sour with the metallic taste of fear.

The farther I walked, the slicker the rocks became. The moss growth increased, and the water came surging up through the crevices
in bursts of froth. I felt icy foam against my ankles, and the crash of the waves was thunder in my ears.

I should go back, I knew, and get Dad to come back with me, but I kept moving forward, drawn to face whatever there was to
be faced as quickly as possible.

I never got there.

Several yards from the edge, a void seemed to gape beneath me. I screamed—I think I screamed—but perhaps I didn’t; perhaps
the scream was in my head. My only vivid recollection is of that instant in which I seemed to hang motionless in empty air.
Then I went plunging down between two widely spaced rocks into the mermaids’ caverns below.

The mermaids’ caverns! Megan loved to
talk about them during those moments at bedtime when she wanted to make the evenings last a little longer.

“There are giant rooms,” she would tell us, “lighted with phosphorus, so everything in them glows green. The walls are made
of coral, and all over the place there are jewels from pirate treasures. And there are mirrors on the ceilings so the mermaids
can look at themselves when they comb their hair.”

“And what do they do down there after they get their hair taken care of ?” I asked her once, enjoying the sound of the chirping
little voice as she kept the story going.

“They sing a lot,” she said, “and—and—” She paused and frowned thoughtfully. “Actually, I don’t really know, Laurie. I’ve
never been down there. Maybe someday one of us will get to go.”

It’s strange how such thoughts can occur to people in moments of trauma, ridiculous thoughts that make no sense at all. Maybe
it’s something that happens in the brain to protect your sanity, a sort of diversion to diffuse the horror of a situation
until you regain the strength to handle it. I didn’t lose consciousness. I was aware of everything—of the pain and of the
darkness and of the splashing of the water and the sharp, dank odor of fishy things that had never seen the light. I should
have been thinking about death, and instead I was thinking about mermaids.

Now I will know. I will be able to tell Meg what they do all day.

I closed my eyes to make the darkness seem more natural. I could even believe I was dreaming, especially when a cold hand
touched my cheek and the voice of a merman asked softly, “Are you alive?”

I tried to say, “Yes,” but to my surprise I found that I could not get the word from my mind into my mouth and out past my
lips.
Maybe
I’m dead,
I thought. But if so, then I shouldn’t be hurting.

Experimentally, I opened my eyes and found that I wasn’t in complete blackness after all. There was a faint light coming from
somewhere. With effort, I turned my head and found myself gazing at a jagged wedge of overcast sky.

That’s what I fell through,
I thought.
Like Alice down the rabbit hole
. Except that there was no rabbit. I wasn’t following anyone. What was I doing? I was going to the edge to look over and to
see—to see—

“Are you alive?” the voice asked again, and it was a voice I knew.

This time I managed to answer.

“Yes, Jeff, I am.”

There was silence. Then he said incredulously, “Laurie?”

“Yes.”

“Laurie? Is it really you?” The hand explored the outline of my face, moving across my forehead down the ridge of my nose.
It touched my lips. “I’m hallucinating, right? I knew that would happen soon. What’s next, pink elephants?”

“You’re not funny,” I said weakly. “I fell. I went on the rocks, like you said not to, and I stepped in a crevice. We should
be dead, shouldn’t we?”

“Probably,” Jeff said. “God, Laurie, I felt so alone down here. It’s been cold. Is it really you?” The question came out like
a sob.

I managed to raise a hand and take hold of his.

“I can’t think now,” I said. “We’ll talk in a little while. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jeff said. “Sure, that’s okay. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

So I let my eyes fall closed, and thought about mermaids with their long wet hair streaming over their shoulders like seaweed
as they glided effortlessly through the water-filled passages of their underworld home. They were just as Megan described, and I let myself glide with them. Perhaps I slept a little. Or perhaps this time I did lose consciousness, for
I wasn’t aware of how much time was passing.

When I opened my eyes again, something had changed. My mind was focused more sharply. I tightened my grasp on Jeff ’s hand,
and he returned the pressure.

“Thank god,” he said huskily. “I thought you might be—”

“No, I’m awake.”

“How badly hurt are you? Can you sit up?”

“I can try.”

“See if you can move closer. The ledge here is wider. There’s less danger of slipping off.”

The idea of falling farther was terrifying enough to make me try anything. Bracing for the effort, I began to drag myself
slowly into a sitting position. Immediately, I realized that the pain that had seemed to be everywhere was concentrated in
my right shoulder. I paused, resting my weight for a moment on my left elbow, and then continued to pull myself erect.

I heard someone making a moaning sound, and then realized that it was coming from me.

“Is it that bad?” Jeff asked softly.

“My shoulder hurts. I can’t tell more than that. What about you?”

“I think I broke my leg,” Jeff said. “Yesterday it hurt like hell. I didn’t think I could stand it. Now, though, it’s gotten
sort of numb.”

“You need a doctor!”

“A doctor? Laurie, please.”

“If a broken bone isn’t set, it grows back crooked.”

I thought I was making such perfect sense that I couldn’t understand the reason for his silence.

Then Jeff said quietly, “It won’t matter. We’re not getting out of here.”

“Of course we are,” I said. “We didn’t fall into the middle of the earth. It can’t be more than twelve feet or so to that
hole up there, and we’re no more than fifty yards from the back of Cliff House. When I don’t come to dinner, my mom and dad
will look for me, and they’ll lower ropes or something and get us out.”

“Sure, they’ll hunt, but what makes you think they’ll find us?”

“We’ll make them,” I said. “We’ll yell till they hear us.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried that? Listen to my voice. There’s nothing left of it. All last night I lay here yelling my head
off—to you—to my dad—to God, and a lot of good it did. The surf is so loud that somebody would have to be directly over us
to be able to hear. As for our being near Cliff House, how does that help? You can’t see the opening in the rocks from there
or even from the end of the path. You have to be right on top of it. You know that. You wouldn’t have fallen otherwise.”

“My parents will find us,” I said stubbornly. “You don’t know my father.”

“Maybe not, but I do know when something is impossible.” He shifted his position. “Do you think you can move closer?”

“I can if you help me.”

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“I’ll be okay. Just watch out for my right shoulder.”

I leaned toward him, and he put his arm around me and began to draw me gently along the rock shelf. A shaft of pain shot through
me, and I pressed my lips tightly together to keep from crying out.

Jeff must have heard my indrawn breath, because he hesitated. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure. We’ve almost made it.”

“All right, then. Clench your teeth.” He hauled me over the rest of the way, and I settled against him with a sigh of relief.
The idea of sliding off into that dark hole was more horrifying than any nightmare I could imagine.

Now that I was beside him I could feel how cold he was. His body was shaking, and I could hear the chatter of his teeth. I
managed to turn enough so that I could get my left hand around to undo the snaps on his jacket. Then I unsnapped my own. I
slipped my arms inside the opening in his parka and leaned against his chest so that the warmth of my body would be transferred
to his. I could feel the thud of his heart so strong and close that it seemed to belong to both of us. The violence of his
shivering frightened me, for it was beyond anything I had ever experienced. No wonder his leg was numb! His circulation must
have been nonexistent!

“How did it happen?” I asked him. “Why were you out here?”

“You don’t know?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

“Of course I don’t. How could I?”

“Well, weren’t you there?”

“There?” I repeated blankly. “Where? What are you talking about?”

“You were there. Out on the rocks.” He paused, and then with less certainty he added, “I think you were there. Things are
getting hazy. I remember seeing you there, because—I wouldn’t have gone otherwise, would I?”

“I understand,” I said. “You saw a girl on the rocks. A girl who looked exactly like me except for her eyes.”

“I didn’t get close enough to see her eyes,” Jeff said. “I was halfway to her when I fell. She was calling to me. I couldn’t
hear her voice over the sound of the waves, but I could see her lips moving, and she was waving me toward her. It was you.
Or am I crazy? It had to be you, but if it was, then—then—you’d have known, and you wouldn’t have fallen yourself. My mind’s
groggy. Nothing makes sense.”

“It wasn’t me,” I said.

“There’s somebody, then, who looks like you. That girl Ahearn saw on the beach. It’s that person, right?”

“Her name is Lia,” I told him.

“I’m really tired.” He was losing his grasp on the conversation. I could feel him drifting off. “Don’t let me fall.”

“I won’t.” I was afraid for him to sleep, and afraid for him not to. His shivering had lessened, which must have meant he
was warmer. “Have you slept at all?”

“I was scared to. I knew I’d roll off. Do you think if I sleep now you could hang on to me?”

“For a while,” I said. “Then I’m going to wake you.”

“Just for a minute,” he mumbled, and was asleep immediately.

He slept so hard that it was like holding a dead person, except that I could feel the slow, continuous pounding of his heart.
My own mind was awake and churning, far more alert than it had been before. How could I have failed to guess that it was Lia
who had done this? Hadn’t she warned me? Hadn’t she ordered me straight out, “Tell him not to come! Tell him never to come
here again!” I hadn’t obeyed, so this was my punishment. Jeff was right; we would die here. And no one would find us or learn
what had happened. It would be one of those unsolved mysteries: “Two Teenagers Disappear from Island off Coast of New England.”

Why would she do this? That was the mystery. The whole thing was so senseless. There was no reason. There was nothing for
Lia to gain by taking my life, and as for Jeff—what was he to Lia? Until this moment he didn’t even know she existed.

An hour—or more, or less—moved by; there was no way of knowing exactly. Then, just as I was thinking I ought to try to wake
him, Jeff stirred and said, “I love you.” At first I thought I hadn’t heard him right, but he continued drowsily, “I used
to lie awake at night and think how it would be to hold you. So now I know. Crazy, right?”

“No, it’s not crazy,” I said gently.

“It is crazy, because I thought it would be great. Instead, it’s like saying good-bye.”

“It’s not good-bye.” But I was beginning to believe that it was.

“Laurie—” He seemed to shake himself more awake. “We were riding back from school one day, and it was cold, and your hair
was blowing. I had my arm up along the back of the seat. I almost put it down around you. Then I thought, no, I won’t try
that here. It’s got to be in the dark when she won’t have to look at my face.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” I said. “I’m used to your face.”

“Nobody gets used to that. My own mom—you know what she said? ‘I can’t take it,’ she said. ‘It makes me sick to see him like
this. Can’t they do something?’ And the doctor said, ‘Maybe. After a couple of years, maybe, something can be done. We’ll
see at that time. What sort of medical coverage do you carry?’ So she said, ‘I think he’d better live on the island.’”

“Oh, Jeff,” I said. “That’s awful.”

“She didn’t put it quite like that. She said, ‘I think he should live with his dad. A teenage boy needs a man for a role model.’
She never thought that before. She always said just the opposite—that my dad was a lousy example for me. What it came down
to was that she couldn’t stand to look at me.”

“I can look at you,” I said. “Your face is your face. It’s part of you.”

“That’s what Helen said. She said, ‘Tell Laurie how you feel.’ And I told her, ‘Helen, you’re insane. She’d freak out.’ And
Helen said—she said—”

He was slipping away again. A wave of panic swept over me. Somehow I knew that if he left this time it would be for good.

“Stay awake,” I told him urgently. “You’ve got to stay awake. We’re going to get out of here.”

“There’s no way.”

“There is a way! There is!”

It happened so suddenly that I couldn’t believe it. One moment I was with Jeff on the rock ledge, and an instant later I was
floating above him. The darkness hadn’t lessened, yet I could see everything—the boy with the scarred face—the girl with her
head on his shoulder. I knew that girl was Laurie Stratton, yet she was someone completely apart from me. I was detached,
clear of entrapments, moving upward. Rising like smoke, like the ocean mists, like a drop of water being drawn by the sun,
I moved through the opening above me. And I was free!

Free in a world of sky! It stretched in all directions. I could rise into it, if I wished, and keep on rising. I could become
part of it and expand beyond into nothing and everything. The evening air should have been cold, but I didn’t feel it. I could
see straight through the gray clouds to the sun. Up I rose, until the clouds lay far behind me. The wind came singing, and
it carried a million stories. Lia had been right, there were no words here. There did not have to be. All things were known
and understood. A gull screamed somewhere miles away, and I knew. A child cried on the mainland, and I heard. I was apart
from the earth, yet everything on it was mine.