Ghosting (5 page)

That’s nice,
she sighs, her eyes unfocused and on some distant memory.
Maxie was such a cute little girl.

then mom moves slowly toward the family room and the tv. i notice she looks a little thicker and puffier than she used to. must be the sleeping pills she takes. and all those chicken tenders.

Don’t stay out too late,
she calls to me before switching on the tv set.

not that she’d notice how late i stay out, the way those pills knock her out.

Okay, Mom,
i call back, and head up to my room to roll a few joints.

EMFAX. crazy to think about after all these years. always sounded like a corporation to me, like fedex or amtrak. and EMFAX had an excellent run, a fortune 500 for sure. until middle school, when it went belly-up.

EMMA

Maxie looks pretty much

the way she always looked.

No weird tats or shaved head.

A few too many ear piercings.

And she’s got a camera sticking

out of her pocket.

Which is a little hard-core.

Most everyone

I know uses their cell.

Hey, Maxie,
I say.

There’s a brief awkward moment

when we don’t know whether

to hug or not. We don’t.

But Polly immediately jumps up

on Maxie with the kind of joy

she usually reserves for me.

Faith watches, smiling.

She always liked Maxie.

I guess so did Polly.

Hey, Polly,
says Maxie, rubbing Polly’s ears the way
she loves.
Hey, Faith,
Maxie adds with a smile at my sister.

I brush off the irritation

I’m feeling about

this lovefest.

Hey, Maxie, you want a cookie?
I say.
Faith baked the best oatmeal-raisin cookies.

Sure,
says Maxie.

In the kitchen we both munch

Faith’s cookies, still faintly warm

from the oven.

So, Maxie,
I say,
I don’t know if you’re into partying, but thought I’d warn you. Brendan heard about this thing at a kid’s house. Probably a lot of drinking and stuff.

That’s fine,
says Maxie.

But I can tell by her face

she’s not really okay with it.

Then I hear a car honking outside.

We can always drop you home if you . . . ,
I say, looking out the window at Brendan hopping out of his SUV.

No, it’s cool,
she says, too quickly.

I shrug.
Great,
I say.

When we get back outside,

Brendan is chatting with

Mom and Dad.

Maxie pulls out her camera and

points it toward Faith and Polly,

who are curled up together on the front stoop.

Flash.

Faith looks up and smiles,

while Polly bounds over

to Maxie again.

I can tell Brendan is impatient

to get going. So am I. I grab his hand

and pull him toward the car.

C’mon, Maxie,
I call.
We gotta go. Bye Mom, bye Dad.

Time to get this

party started. Time for

some serious fun.

MAXIE

Emma is still Emma,

only more so.

More assured,

more full of life.

Shinier.

And, I have this feeling,

even harder

to say

no to.

FAITH

I love

how Polly

knew Maxie

right away.

Dogs are

amazing.

And I’m glad

Maxie has

moved back.

Maybe she

and Emma

will be

friends again.

But probably

not.

Emma is on

her own

fast track,

the way

she’s been

since

middle school.

No patience for

anyone

a little

different.

Saturday, August 28, 7:00 p.m.

BRENDAN

Took the turn onto Elm a little wide.

A car blares its horn at me.

Emma shoots me a look. So, yeah,

I’ve had a few beers already. Big deal.

No DUI yet and I’ve driven

hammered plenty of times.

It’s those Donnelly reflexes,

the ones my dad takes the credit for.

“Yeah, that’s my boy, the star athlete,

just like his old man.”

Fine, long as it gets me that free ride

to college somewhere far away.

Colorado or California,

that’s where I’d go.

But of course the old man has

his sights set on his alma mater.

“Ivy’s the way to go, boy. You’ll make connections

there that’ll set you up for life.” Fuck that.

Want me to drive?
Emma asks.

I’m cool,
I say.

Okay, if you’re sure,
Emma says.

She picks up my iPod, searching for a song.

I turn the AC a notch higher.

So, Anil, what’s your dad do?
I say, catching his eye in the rearview mirror.

He and Chloe are in the third row.

She’s got her hands all over him.

He’s a doctor,
Anil says.

Anil’s mom is a doctor, too,
Chloe pipes up.

Two doctors in the family,

must be loaded.

My little brothers go to your mom,
says Chloe.

They do?
Anil says, his voice surprised.

Yeah, didn’t I tell you?

Emma makes one of her impatient

noises, shaking my iPod.

It keeps freezing,
she says.

Battery’s low,
I say.

Then I catch Anil’s eye again

in the rearview mirror.

And he looks so superior,

I can’t help myself, saying

Hey, bro, speaking of your mom. She is smoking hot.

Both his parents came out to say good-bye

when I picked up Anil and Chloe.

Shut up, Bren,
says Emma.

What?
I say, with innocent eyes.
Just sayin’ I could totally do her.

You’re so gross,
Emma says, but not really paying attention.

She’s finally found the song she was

looking for and plugs the iPod back in.

Thought I might get some

kind of rise from Anil. But no.

In the rearview mirror I see he’s just staring

out the window, no expression at all.

Mr. Poker Face might not be so calm if he knew

what my dad accidentally left in the glove compartment.

ANIL

1.
Anger,

like nothing I’ve felt before,

courses through me.

Blood heats my skin,

and I want nothing more than

to punch Brendan Donnelly

in the face.

I’ve never hit anyone in my life,

but I know, with a mathematical certainty,

that if I weren’t pinned back

in the third row of this SUV,

I would hit Brendan.

It’s a physical, palpable thing

in my gut.

Chloe leans into me.

Ignore him,
she whispers.
He’s a jerk.

Her breath in my ear distracts me.

But I can still feel the pulse throbbing in my neck.

My blood pressure must be sky-high.

I liked your mom,
says Chloe in a soft voice.

She’s nice.

2.
I think back to their meeting.

My mom was shy but warm,

and my dad was easy to read.

Okay, I see now,
his eyes said to me.

3.
My thoughts go back to Brendan,

what he said.

Why did I react that way?

I’ve heard worse in the weight room.

Jocks mouthing off,

showing off.

I should be able to joke back.

Yeah, bet your mom is hot, too,
I should have said.

Is it the Indian in me?

My father in me?

These disrespectful American teenagers.

But then I get a sudden image

of Brendan standing beside my mother,

putting his hands on her,

and my hands curl into fists again.

My breath goes short.

I almost feel like

I could drive my fists through the

car window beside me and

not feel a thing.

FAITH

Mom and

Dad are

watching a

movie in

the family

room.

I’m about

to join

them,

bringing

a plate of

cookies.

But just

before I

enter,

before they

can see me,

I hear

Brendan’s

name.

I stand

very still,

hardly

breathing

so I can

hear them

over the TV.

I don’t get why you don’t like him,
Dad is saying.
Brendan seems like a good kid to me, very polite.

I don’t know. I guess I think it’s an act,
Mom answers.
And I’ve heard stuff about his father.

What kind of stuff?

That he makes the Great Santini look like a walk in the park,
Mom answers.

I’m dying

for her to

go on,

explain

what she

means,

but Dad

just gives a

chuckle,

like he

knows.

Still, that doesn’t make him a bad kid, even if his father is a sonofabitch,
he says.

And then

the ad that

was playing

ends and

the movie

they were

watching

starts up

again.

I’m frozen

for a

moment.

I don’t

think I’ve

ever heard

my dad

use that

word before.

And even

if I don’t

know who

the Great

Santini is,

it’s pretty

clear he’s

bad news.

And,

truth is,

I don’t

want to

feel sorry for

Brendan

Donnelly.

POLICE CHIEF AUBREY DELAFIELD

Things are starting to get busy.

As predicted.

Last night some middle school boys

rounded up a bunch of stone statues

from all over Wilmette—

geese, rabbits, even one of those old-fashioned jockeys—

and stuck them in the sand at Gillson Park beach.

Of course the tide came in,

knocking them down, dragging some of them

out into the lake.

Sorting the damn things out,

wading out to retrieve the ones

caught out on the first sandbar

and figuring out which one belonged to which address,

was a nightmare.

One lady made a great hue and cry because

the little Northwestern sweatshirt

she’d had specially made for her goose

got washed away by the tide.

And one garden gnome never did turn up.

Like I said, it’s going to be a long weekend.

But if looking for a goose’s sweatshirt is the worst of it,

I’ll be a happy man.

MAXIE

Brendan pulls up

in front of

Felix’s house.

So many memories around that house:

epic games of freeze tag

with flashlights.

eating doughnuts in the big oak tree

in the backyard.

his mom making the best grilled cheese sandwiches

and Campbell’s tomato soup,

with crumbled-up saltines.

The house looks

different somehow

and at first I can’t put

my finger on it.

But then I realize there aren’t

any lights on

in the windows.

Plus the lawn needs

mowing and tall weeds

crowd the front bushes.

It almost looks

deserted.

Felix’s house is in

the part of town where

the houses are smaller

and closer together.

Felix’s parents are young,

and his dad is

in the military.

But his mom always

used to keep their house

neat and pretty.

I heard his mom is working a couple of jobs,
says

Emma,
while his dad is in Afghanistan.

I notice a small orange glow

near the front door

and realize someone is

sitting on the front steps,

smoking.

Brendan lowers Emma’s window

and leans over her.

Put down the blunt, dude,
he yells,
and get your butt over here.

Nice,
says Emma.
That lady next door probably heard you.

So what,
says Brendan.

The orange glow gets brighter

for a second,

then

goes out.

I hop out of

the car.

Hey, Felix,
I call.
Long time no see.

But he doesn’t bound

toward me,

not the way he used to.

He moves slowly,

and his big grin is slower, too,

though it’s just as warm.

Max,
he says, and gives me a loose but lingering hug.

I can smell the weed on him,

strong.

His hair is the same curly mop,

but he’s gotten

bigger and taller.

And something else about him,

other than the slower speed

and smell of pot,

is different.

I can’t figure out what it is,

not right away.

It’s great to see you,
he says.

And he means it,

I can tell.

Come on,
calls Brendan from inside the car.
We’ve got places to go.

Brendan says we need

to make a quick

fueling stop

before we head

to the party

and I think he means