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Authors: Tara Altebrando

The Leaving (11 page)

BOOK: The Leaving
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Hazards, there.

Fluffy dice and stale air freshener there.

But
driving
felt familiar.

Someone had taught her to do this.

No encouraging mother or father in an empty mall parking lot.

No driver’s ed class with friends.

Who
did
this?

What else did you teach me?

At home, she’d poured Tammy into bed and put a glass of water on her bedside table.

It was 7:00 p.m.

She went to her room to change her clothes.

Then changed them again.

And again.

Shorts didn’t feel right.

At all.

Sundresses slightly better.

But florals, no.

Stripes?

Better.

She didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

It was just . . .

. . . all . . .

. . . wrong . . .

Would have to go back . . .

But then what would she wear?

Would have to find better . . .

. . . other . . .

. . . stores.

Finally, she settled on the gray A-line skirt and black tank top.

Lying down on her bed, she searched for “oval metal objects” on her phone.

A locket maybe?

Religious medal?

She put the phone down.

Could not keep sleeping in this room.

Not with it like this.

All stuffed unicorns and Glinda.

She stood and stared at the cardboard witch for a minute and imagined a field of poppies,

a yellow brick road leading her to . . .

. . . where?

. . . then left.

She opted to drive and was early, even with all that, and had been sitting in the parking lot beside the playground for maybe fifteen minutes thinking about lockets and religious medals and flying monkeys when—

KNOCK-KNOCK.

Gasp
.

Kristen.

Black cargo shorts.

White top with a black anchor on it.

Black bracelets on her left wrist.

Scarlett leaned over and opened the passenger-side door. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.”

Kristen exhaled cigarette smoke, then got into the car, bringing the smell with her. “You smoke?” Scarlett said.

Kristen shrugged. “Apparently.”

 /
  /

Crickets.

       /
   /

Palm leaves brushing against each other in the breeze. /

  /
        /

Just tell her!

      /
   /

Kristen said, “Do you think anybody else is going to show?”

“I think Lucas will.” He had to; she needed to see him even if she wasn’t sure exactly why. ”It was his idea. But I don’t know. Have you been watching the news?”

Kristen said, “They’ll never show.”

“I wasn’t sure
you’d
be here.” She’d heard about Kristen during that brief news clip, too. “Hypnosis?”

“Yeah, it was all Father’s idea. And Mother’s, too, of course!”

“Are they awful?”

“They got divorced, turns out. So I’m living in this totally weird house with my mother and now they have to figure out custody? I don’t know. It’s like they’re offended that someone did this to them. It’s all so . . . unsavory. My father thinks we were kept in some pervert’s basement.”

“And they want you to be hypnotized so you can remember
that
?”

“They want justice!” Kristen rolled her eyes. “They want answers! They want someone to blame! My father had this hypnosis chick’s number ready, like he was waiting all this time.”

“Maybe it’ll work.” It seemed like the right thing to say, even if Scarlett wasn’t sure she believed it. “I’m surprised my mother hasn’t suggested it yet. She thinks it was an alien abduction.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Sorry.”

“Thanks.”

Kristen nodded toward the corner. “Why do you think we were dropped off
here
?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just . . . I don’t know. It seems . . . cruel?”

“How so?” They’d been let go. That seemed
un
-cruel.

“It just feels like a taunt.” Kristen played with one of her bracelets. “Here you go. Here’s what you missed. Here’s a lovely reminder of the piece of you that’s gone forever.”

Scarlett wished she could locate her own missing piece.

Was it puzzle-shaped and in her heart?

Or oval in her gut?

“Did you see the memory guy yet?” Kristen asked. “Get poked and prodded yet?”

“Just MRI today. The rest tomorrow.” She should tell her, but something was stopping her; she didn’t want to be the only one. “You’re all done?” she asked, fishing.

“Yeah, what a waste of time.” Kristen shook her head. “Like, what did they think they’d find? The memory guy was at least interesting.”

“How so?”

“He’s cool. Kind of hot, actually.” She slipped off her sandals and put her bare feet up on the dash; a blister was forming near her left pinkie toe. “We were talking about memories as units. Like how when you have a memory it had a beginning and an end. So what triggers those beginning and end points, like who’s the editor in your brain? Why do you remember one minute and not the minutes before it?”

“Does he have any theories? About what happened to us?”

“He doesn’t know, except maybe it was some kind of experiment. Which is a better theory than aliens or perverts, though I suppose it could be two out of three. I can’t breathe.” Kristen slid her feet back down to the floor, slipped her sandals back on, opened the door and got out and closed it, and headed for the playground gate.

Scarlett got out, and then felt a tweak of pain in her gut.

Imagined it.

Surely.

Unless . . . ?

Was it possible?

That whatever it was . . .

Had hidden sharp edges

. . . and could rip her right open?

Had to
push push push

the thought away.

Followed Kristen to the swings.

Who else could she trust if not the others?

Started to form the sentence in her head.

There’s something inside

“I remembered something about you right after the session,” Kristen said. “About
us
. Just a feeling, and I had it again as I walked toward your car.”

  /
      /
   /

“What?”

    /
  /
         /

Kristen sat on a swing, twisting its chains. “I remembered that we don’t really like each other.”

The stabbing feeling again.

This time for real.

Lucas

He was on foot, heading for the playground, wondering who would show up, half hoping it would be only him and Scarlett.

What would he even tell her?

Or them?

Did they know how to load guns, too?

If he hadn’t come across a gun, he wouldn’t have even known.

Maybe he should have brought it?

Tested them?

No.

Why had he felt so still, so calm, with that gun in his hand?

Why had he . . .

ONE RIGHT TWO LEFT
HISS CLICK
SNAP UP DONE

. . . liked it?

Would they remember the carousel, too?

GOLDEN SADDLES. PEANUTS. WHITE FIRE.

Or a man carrying something that looked like wrapping paper?

SANTA. BEARD.

Would they have tattoos?

CLICK CLICK.

And if so, the same as his or different?

It was finally starting to cool off, and the sun had shifted from blue to gray as evening sank in.

Maybe his brother was right not to trust him.

Maybe Avery was, too.

Why did he know how to load a gun?

Kristen and Scarlett were sitting beside each other on swings, not swinging.

“Hey.” He approached.

“Hey.” Scarlett stood; Kristen pushed off gently on her swing, setting herself in motion.

“I’m so sorry.” Scarlett walked toward him and then stopped as if encountering an invisible force field. “About your father.”

He nodded, wishing she’d come all the way to him. “Thanks.”

Kristen said, “Yeah, sorry about all that,” sounding like she was already over it.

“It’s hard to even know how to feel about it.” He spoke to Scarlett as if Kristen weren’t there. “On the one hand I barely knew him.”

“You can’t really be a suspect,” Scarlett said. “They have to realize it was an accident. Right?”

“They will.” He had to believe it, himself. Then, “How are things with you guys?”

He couldn’t ignore Kristen the whole time.

“I’m okay,” Scarlett said. Her black tank top showed off her figure in a way he found distracting.

SKIN. VALLEY. BONES. LIPS.

A memory?

A fantasy?

She said, “My mother is a crazy person who thinks aliens took us.”

He’d seen a note about that in the RV and had hoped it wasn’t actually true. At least not anymore, not now.

“My parents, who are amicably divorced, vote for pervert with a basement prison,” Kristen said. “Mother is pretty much treating me like a foreign exchange student from some war-torn, godforsaken country, which feels right, in a way?”

“That’s a lot to have to deal with,” Lucas said.

“I’ll manage,” Kristen said.

“That explains why your address didn’t sound familiar,” he said.

“Exactly.”

“You guys don’t remember Max, do you?” Lucas asked.

Scarlett shook her head; Kristen, too.

“And do either of you know anything about a man carrying wrapping paper? Being followed? Anything like that?”

“No, why?” Scarlett said.

“I said I was being followed the week before. I told my brother about it. I thought maybe if you’d been followed but hadn’t told anyone . . . I don’t know. I remember stuff from before . . .

WALKER. SUPERMAN. CUBBIES. READY OR NOT.

. . . so I thought you might.”

Scarlett said, “I told my mother we were going ‘to the leaving.’”

Lucas nodded. “Do you remember saying it?”

“I don’t.” She seemed irritated. “Why would I say that?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Yet.”

He pictured that scene—a young girl telling her mother she was going on a trip, to the leaving, while they were tucked in bed and reading books.

Kids say crazy things, silly things, weird things.

She probably hadn’t thought anything of it until . . . after.

“You are getting sleepy.” Kristen’s voice was an octave deeper. “You are getting very sleepy. When I snap my fingers, you will remember.”

Lucas didn’t like the pattern of freckles on her nose.

“Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“We’ll get there.” Lucas turned back to Scarlett. “We’ll figure it out. We have to.” He could practically feel the cool metal of the gun in his hands when he said, “Someone has to pay. For doing this to us.”

“Can either of you think of what kind of clothes I used to wear?” Scarlett asked.

He looked at her, that tank top.

SOFT.
WARM. KISS.

Blinked.

“Really?” Kristen pushed off on her swing harder and started to pump her legs. She was going too high. “That’s your concern right now? Fashion?”

Scarlett looked down at her clothes. “I just don’t feel like . . . well . . . me.”

Lucas knew what she meant—she somehow didn’t
look
like her—but there were more important things to be thinking about. He was about to say something—about guns, or weapons in general—to feel
out Scarlett and Kristen, but then Kristen said, “Look who decided to grace us with her presence.”

Sarah seemed smaller somehow; she had expensive-looking clothes on.

“Hey,” Lucas said.

“Hey,” she said.

“Now we just have to wait for Adam,” he said.

“He’s not coming.” Sarah shook her head. “I shouldn’t even be here. I just. I just wanted to see you all.”

“I guess we’re lucky you had some time between interviews,” Kristen said.

“Adam’s parents pushed for that. I think it’ll die down. I don’t know. One of you obviously talked, too. Max’s sister was on the news right before I left and said something about a carousel?”

HOW CAN YOU FORGET A PERSON ?
STONES OF OPUS 6 REFLECTED IN AVERY’S EYES.

Why would she
do
that? How could he have been so dumb?

Don’t trust people who don’t trust you
.

“That was me,” Lucas said.

Scarlett sounded genuinely confused. “When did you talk to
Max’s sister
?”

“She came to the house. Looking for help. It just slipped. Do any of you remember a carousel by the beach?”

They all shook their heads.

He waited for the dizziness to come back, but it didn’t.

Scarlett said, “I remember riding in a hot air balloon.”

Kristen said, “Horseback riding in a meadow.”

Sarah said, “Playing with a puppy.”

“What about Adam?” Lucas asked.

“A roller coaster ride,” Sarah said. “He thinks they’re just hallucinations we had. But I don’t know. I feel like I can picture this gray house. An old-looking gray house. Adam says I shouldn’t say anything to anybody. I wanted to know if any of you remember that? Like charcoal gray?”

Lucas didn’t. Neither did the others.

Kristen said, “I’m meeting with a hypnotist again in the morning. Maybe I’ll remember.”

“Did you remember anything
today
?” Lucas asked, and for a second, it seemed like Kristen and Scarlett shared a secret look, and then Kristen seemed to break it off.

BOOK: The Leaving
8.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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