The Form of Things Unknown (17 page)

Mrs. Green reaches her hand out toward me, to help me up. “Miss Roman, I think we need to call your parents. I don't think you're in any shape to perform tonight.”

I really can't argue with that, but I don't want her to bother Mom or Dad right now. Not when they are finally getting a chance to be alone together.

“But what about the play?” Starla cries. “Who will play Titania?”

Mrs. Green folds her arms. “Run and get Maizy from the sound booth. She's the Cast Three Titania. If she can't do it, we'll just have to cancel tonight's performance.”

“No!” Caitlyn yells in the hallway. Her fairy wings shake as she stomps her feet in anger. “This is all your fault!” she says, glaring at me before taking off.

“Dammit,” Lucas says, leaving Starla to go after his sister.

There is no way I'll ever be able to prove this is not my fault. Everyone is going to be mad at me for ruining the play. I put my head on my knees.

“Miss Roman, would you be so kind as to give Melinda your gown and change back into your own clothes while I call your parents?”

“Of course,” I whisper. But now there is no door and I have no privacy.

Raine helps Starla stand and the two of them leave, with only a few suspicious glares in my direction.

Melinda pushes her way through the crowd into the dressing room. She pulls out a folding screen and sets it up so I can change behind it.

I try not to get any tears or snot on THE DRESS. It's breaking my heart that I'll never get to wear it again. Or possibly it's breaking because I'll never see Lucas again. Or because all my friends are scared of me. Or because some of them actually hate me.

Once I change into jeans and a T-shirt, I slip my sandals on and search for Raine. I want to know if she's been in on Starla's tricks this whole, time too.

Raine and Peter are standing in the hallway backstage. “Where's Starla?” I ask her.

She stands up, defensive, and Peter joins her. “In the office with Colton and Mrs. Green. What did you do to her?” God, she looks like she thinks I'm going to attack her.

She breaks my heart, too. “Why are you so quick to believe that I did something to her?” I ask. “Were you in on it, too?”

“What are you talking about?” Peter asks.

“She's been tricking me this whole time, trying to make me think I'm going crazy.”

Raine bites her lip. She looks uncertain, hesitant. “Natalie, listen to yourself. Why would Starla want you to think you're crazy?”

I don't know whom to trust anymore.

“Where is David?” I ask. At least my brother will believe me. I think.

Peter nods toward the front of the theater. “He took over the sound booth since Maizy has to play Titania tonight.”

Mrs. Green comes out of her office and glares at me. “Your grandmother is coming to pick you up.”

Raine and Peter are forgotten. “No, she can't drive!” I say. “Where are my parents?”

She crosses her arms. “Your grandmother answered the house number when I called. She said she'd be here as soon as possible. I'd like for you to go and sit down in the foyer until she comes.”

I storm out to the foyer, flop down on a bench, and pull out my phone to call Mom. I don't want them to have to cancel their mini-vacation, but I don't want to be blamed for Grandma driving around loose in Savannah, either.

I could find David, but I don't want to pull him out of the sound booth. That would only make Mrs. Green even angrier. “Hey.” Lucas sits down on the bench next to me. “Are you doing okay?”

“I'm fine.” The fact that he's walking on eggshells around me makes me mad. He doesn't trust me either. He thinks I'm unstable.

“Natalie, things have been extremely crazy these past two days. So it's totally understandable if you—”

“It. Wasn't. Me.” I look up at him, willing him to believe me. But all I see in his eyes is pity. A layer of frost settles inside my chest. Why should I work so hard to convince Lucas? Why doesn't he believe in me?

He takes a deep breath. “Starla said both of you got locked in the dressing room and you panicked. That it made you have some sort of episode.”

“I might have panicked a little when she threw the scarf over my head and turned the lights off, but I did NOT have an episode.”

“Why would she do that?” he asks.

“Why don't you ask her?” I snap.

He looks skeptical. Of course he believes her story over mine. Just like everyone else. Why should I even bother defending myself?

“Just forget it.” I stand up to go find David and tell him what is going on. Maybe I can talk to him before anyone else does. Maybe he will listen to my side.

“Natalie, wait. Please,” he adds, when I don't turn around. “Help me understand.” Lucas puts his hand on the door frame above me. “Don't run away.”

Anger boils over in my chest. I push him away. I want to tell him that I don't have schizophrenia and that Starla has been trying all along to convince me otherwise. But it sounds like a classic paranoid line a true schizophrenic would say. And I want Lucas to trust me whether I'm sick or not.

The music for the opening starts. I can't bother David now. The play is already beginning and he will be busy.

“Never mind. It's better if you just leave me alone. Tell Caitlyn I'm sorry.”

Lucas picks up my hand. I blink back tears and pull my hand away.

He starts to say something, but instead he finally moves away. “I'm sorry, too, Nat.”

I wait for him to leave before I let the tears fall. He deserves better, I tell myself. He has enough going on in his life, without a possibly psychotic girlfriend. And a psychotically jealous ex-girlfriend.

I shiver, remembering the cold malice in Starla's eyes. I've seen bullies before, but I've never been attacked so viciously. No one has ever purposely tried to make me doubt my sanity.

I'm still not sure what is real anymore. Ghosts are definitely not real. Love is apparently not real, either. I wipe my cheek on my shirt.

I get up and walk outside. David has probably already heard the story from Colton anyway. And he'll probably call Mom and Dad as soon as he gets a chance.

I don't think Mrs. Green really cares if I sit outside or in the foyer. She just wants me away from the rest of the cast. She might even be worried I'll cause a scene and scare the audience.

The night is muggy, but there's a breeze that carries just a hint of sea air.

I wait. And wait. And worry. Maybe Grandma didn't understand Mrs. Green. Maybe she remembered she didn't have transportation and just went to bed, forgetting about me. If she doesn't come soon, the play will be over and I can go home with David.

I try calling our house phone, but there's no answer. Grandma must have already left. At least I hope she's already left.

Forty minutes later, after I've read three comic books on my phone, my grandmother's silver Jetta, resurrected from the dead, pulls up in front of the theater's entrance. I reach for the handle of the passenger door, and am surprised to see Grandma sitting there. She points to the backseat.

I open the back door instead and climb in, to find Caleb in the driver's seat.

He grins and gives me a jazzy finger wave.

CHAPTER 24

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, glaring at Caleb.

“We're rescuing you, Princess,” Grandma says. “Tell the nice young man thank you.”

Caleb knows better than to expect me to thank him. He pulls back onto the street. “Where to, Mrs. Roman?”

“How did you get this bucket of bolts to run?” I ask. I shouldn't call the car names. Grandma might get insulted and decide not to give it to me after all.

“Did you know your ex-boyfriend was a mechanic?” Grandma is smiling at Caleb, and I feel I have climbed into the weirdest nightmare.

“No. When did you learn to fix cars?”

“In jail. They sent me through a Vo Tech course.”

“Made him a productive member of society. How about that.” Grandma is deliriously happy to be out of the house. Away from my parents. She's almost giddy.

“Grandma, we need to get back home.”

“No, first you need to tell me who that horrid woman was that called me and what happened. She said you were acting strange.”

“No, everyone needs to hold on,” Caleb says. “First things first.” He pulls into Sonic and orders three chocolate cherry ice cream floats. Without asking us if we even like chocolate cherry ice cream floats. “You need sugar to deal with this.” He looks at Grandma. “Do you have any cash on you?”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” I say, pulling money out of my wallet.

“Thanks, Nat.”

“Is that why you dumped this kid?” Grandma asks. “Because he's a freeloader?”

“I dumped him because he is a drug addict who gave me ecstasy and made me have a psychotic episode.”

Caleb has the sense to look sheepish. “I was over at your house when your grandmother got the phone call. I needed to give you this.” He hands me an envelope. “Will you read it as soon as you get a chance?”

“And she just happened to ask you to fix her car?” I shove his letter into my purse. I'm in no mood to read anything right now.

“I took the bus here from Athens. I don't have a car. And she didn't have any other way to come and get you. Mrs. Roman was worried about you, Nat.”

Our order is here, so he pays the car hop and passes us our floats.

“Now can we go home?” I ask. “Wasn't Ms. Susan staying over at the house with you?” I wonder if our neighbor called my parents. I wonder if my parents have called the house to check on Grandma.

Grandma shakes her head. “Susan fell asleep on the couch not long after Master Chef was over. I told her I was going to bed early, and not to bother me because I had a headache. But I have some things I need to take care of before we go home. Make a left up here, Caleb.”

I'm not about to admit it out loud, but this chocolate Cherry Coke float is delicious.

“Do you know this is the first time I've left the house since your grandfather died?” Grandma says. “I was supposed to do something for him before he was buried and . . .” She sighs, looking out the window. “I should have done this months ago.”

“Should have done what?” I ask. She ended up in the hospital for a psych evaluation before Grandpa's funeral. I thought it was terrible that she didn't get the chance to tell him good-bye.

“Never mind. I'm pretty sure we can get this taken care of before anybody misses us. It's a good thing you got kicked out of the theater when you did, Natalie. Excellent timing.”

I glare at the back of her head. “Um, happy to help?”

Caleb looks at me in the rearview mirror and grins. Ugh.

“I think we're running out of civilization,” Caleb says. We're on Highway 80, and the looming, Spanish moss-covered oak trees have given way to a dark bridge over darker swampy waters.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“Not far, I promise. Why don't you sit back and read the note this nice young man has written you?”

“It's too dark to read,” I grumble. “Mom and Dad are going to kill us.”

Grandma doesn't answer. She's too busy humming “Come Together” and while I always thought it was one of the creepier Beatles songs, Grandma actually makes it sound like a demonic chant.

We drive past ritzy waterfront suburbs. No twenty-four-hour convenience stores or even gas stations out here. “Are you sure we have enough gas for this?”

“We'll be fine,” Caleb says. As if he knows where he's going. “I bet this is a pretty drive in the daylight.” He starts humming along with Grandma.

Wonderful.

I try not to think about what is going on at the theater. Whether the performance is over yet (which I'm sure it's not) and who is going out to celebrate afterwards.

I look at my phone guiltily. No word from Mom, so she probably hasn't heard from David yet. I should try calling her, but I really don't want to talk to her or Dad just yet. This is all my fault, even if I have been kidnapped by my ex-boyfriend and my schizophrenic grandmother. I don't want to be yelled at until it absolutely can't be helped. I drink the rest of my chocolate cherry float in silence.

It's only a forty-minute drive to Tybee Island, but this is the first time this summer I've been to the beach. We used to come here when I was little and we'd stay during the summer with my grandparents. My heart hurts right now, missing Grandpa so bad. I can't imagine what Grandma is feeling or thinking right now.

I get a text from David demanding to know where I went. I reply that I'm with Grandma, and that we're both fine. I'm sure Colton has told him otherwise.

“Am I turning anytime soon?” Caleb asks. Most of the beach bars are still open, but there is little traffic this time of night.

“Keep going. I'll tell you when to turn.” She's stopped humming.

My phone lights up in my lap. A text from Lucas.
Are you okay?

Fine
, I text back.

A storm of different emotions slams into me. Hope, fear, confusion, hurt. I'm happy that he's talking to me, but now is not the time. Grandma has finally told Caleb to pull into one of the last parking lots at the very southern end of the island's beach.

“What are we doing here?” I ask, as we all get out of the car. My phone stays on the backseat with my purse.

Grandma wraps her cardigan around her as she heads for the sand dunes. “Keeping a promise. You can come along or wait here. Up to you.”

I can't help but glance over at Caleb. He's watching me quietly. I can't even imagine what he's thinking, basically getting kidnapped and taken to the Atlantic Ocean when all he wanted . . .

“It's okay. We'll be right behind you,” I tell my grandmother. I cross my arms and glare at my ex. “What do you want, Caleb? Why are you here?”

He laughs, leaning against the hood of the car. “Closure, I guess. Just wanted to make amends. I realized at the theater that you were moving on. At least trying to.” He sighs, pushing his hair out of his face. “What I did to you was horrible. I just wanted one more chance to talk to you, to apologize, and to tell you I'd never bother you again.”

I take a deep, heavy breath. “I am trying to move on, Caleb. I'm sorry I said I'd never forgive you. I do forgive you. But we're never going to be together.” And I know I said that before, but I really mean it this time.

“I kinda figured that.” His sad smile breaks my heart and almost changes my mind.

Almost.

Insert long awkward silence here. I look around, searching for Grandma. There's country music spilling out of one of the bars we passed, but there's no one else on the beach at this hour. “We should probably go find her,” I say finally.

He follows me across the parking lot and from the steps of the sea wall we can look down on the beach and see her. She's walking along the water's edge, searching for something.

“Grandma?” I shout into the wind.

“Can we help you find something?” Caleb asks, as I follow him across the dunes.

“What are you looking for?” I ask, stopping just short of where the waves curl up against the sand.

She's walking in the water barefoot, her shoes in her hand. I worry about jellyfish, rusty nails, sharks. “I made him a promise,” she says sadly. “And I never got to keep it.”

Caleb stares at me. I never told him about my grandmother, although I'm sure he's starting to catch on that she's not normal. I shrug. “What was the promise?”

“When we first got married, we didn't have a lot of money. For our first anniversary, I was in art school and your grandfather had just started working at the hospital. He gave me a wooden box full of sand dollars. Every year after that, we celebrated our anniversary at the beach and gave each other a sand dollar. He asked to be buried with a sand dollar in his hand. And I wasn't there to make sure it happened.”

She tucks a silver curl behind her ear and looks out across the waves. “But I can still bring him a sand dollar for our anniversary this year.”

Caleb pulls his phone out of his pocket and turns on the flashlight app. A tiny area of the beach lights up.

I wish I hadn't left my phone in the car. The moon is huge tonight and the lights in the parking lot keep it from being too dark, but sand dollars aren't bleached white when you first find them on the beach. I remember this from the summers spent out here with my grandparents. A living sand dollar is purple and fuzzy. The exoskeletons that you can buy in any beach side gift shop have been bleached and treated. They are originally brown and fragile.

Grandma used to call them mermaid coins when David and I were little.

“Is this one?” Caleb asks, splashing his hand in the water.

Grandma and I join him and peer into his hand.

“You picked up a jellyfish!” I squeal.

Caleb drops it and jumps back. “Gross!”

“Does your hand itch?” Grandma says. “Rub some sand on your palm to take out some of the sting.”

Caleb is washing his hand back and forth in the surf. “I don't think I felt anything. It was just cold.” He shines his light up and down the shoreline.

Grandma keeps us out here for hours searching in the dark water. Surely by now the play is over. David will be home soon looking for me. He'll find both me and Grandma missing and will probably assume it's my fault. I pray he hasn't called Mom and Dad.

Caleb doesn't try to talk to me anymore, but instead lends Grandma his phone. She uses the light to search up and down the beach. I pick up a long stick of driftwood and poke the sand as I follow behind both of them.

“Here we go!” Grandma smiles as she bends down.

She picks up two tiny brown sand dollar exoskeletons. Tiny brown corpses. “These are perfect,” she says, gently brushing the sand off of them. “Now let's head back to the city.”

Caleb and I follow her back to the car. “Let Natalie drive back,” Grandma says. “This is her car now.”

“But I'm not on the insurance yet!” I say. I've been lusting after this car all summer. Even if it is a beat-up four-door hatchback.

“Neither was your friend here,” Grandma says. “He didn't let that stop him.”

“Actually my license is suspended,” Caleb says.

“What? Give me the keys!” I demand, holding my hand out.

He just grins and tosses them to me.

I'm nervous but also excited as I buckle myself into the driver's seat. I've had a license since we moved to Savannah, and sometimes David lets me drive his truck. Every once in a while.

Ok, rarely. But I made an A in Driver's Ed and I'm very cautious. I find the headlights, the turn signal, the air conditioner controls.

Caleb reaches up into the front between me and Grandma and plays with the radio.

Grandma pops his hand. “Keep it on the oldies station.”

“Fine,” he groans, sitting back down.

“Home?” I ask, turning the key in the ignition. The car does not start.

“Uh-oh,” Caleb says.

“Are you kidding?” I glare at him in the rearview mirror. “I thought you fixed it.”

“Pop the hood,” he says, sliding out of the backseat.

I open the hood for him and sigh, leaning my forehead against the steering wheel.

“It'll be fine,” Grandma says. “It didn't take him too long to fix it last time.”

“Can someone come out here and hold a light up so I can see?” Caleb shouts. “This was much easier to do when the sun was shining.”

I get out and turn on the flashlight app on my phone. “Thanks,” Caleb says. “I guess I didn't have the cables attached tight enough. Sorry about that.”

But the battery cables aren't loose. And when he tries to crank the car, he just shakes his head. “It's out of gas. I don't suppose there's a gas can in the trunk, Mrs. Roman?”

Grandma shrugs.

I roll my eyes and hand Caleb the last of the money I have in my purse.

“Didn't think so,” Caleb mutters. “Y'all stay here with the doors locked. I'll be back.” He hands me back the keys and I take his place once again in the driver's seat.

Grandma and I sit in the dark for several long minutes after he walks off, neither of us saying anything. Finally, she sighs. Heavily. “Sorry about tonight, Natalie.”

I laugh. “Not your fault.” I don't even know why she's apologizing.

“John Lennon said there are only two forces in the universe that motivate us: fear and love.” My grandmother looks over at me. “Choose love, Natalie. Not fear.”

She's right, but I don't want her to know that. I cross my arms and tip my head back against the driver's seat. “I'm not choosing Caleb,” I say.