She Lies Twisted (14 page)

I drove the car to the mall, circled the parking lot but didn't get out. It didn't feel right. Jessica wasn't there. I tried downtown next.

“
I'm so sorry, Neil,” James said again. I continued to ignore him. I wasn't ready to talk. My head still hurt and the stitches in my forehead itched like hell. I didn't want to hear him speak.

“
Leave me alone,” I snapped, taking the wrong exit and realizing with anxiety that I was heading in the wrong direction. “I just want to find my sister.” I squeezed the wheel with all of my strength and watched my knuckles pop through my skin, sharp and clear, like the backbone of the Boyd-demon. I shivered.

“
I want what's best for her,” James whispered, his voice barely audible over the ever fattening raindrops and the whir of the motor. “I really do.” I ignored him again. Jessica wasn't by the bookstore, she wasn't at the bakery or the bars. She wasn't downtown. I pulled back onto the highway.

“
I released her, Neil,” James continued, pretending as if he there hadn't been a ten minute gap between his sentences. “I touched the road where I'd seen her die and I felt her spirit rise from the pavement like a curse. She wasn't happy, Neil. She didn't die happy.” I didn't respond to that. I didn't want to. Pain crept up my spine like one of the demons we'd fought, saliva dripping from its angry mouth and burning like acid against my skin. Boyd hadn't died happy either. He'd killed himself and I still blamed me. I closed my eyes to regain my composure and almost crashed. James said nothing but I could see that the longer we were in the car, the more it was affecting him.

I stayed out longer on purpose.

After Old Town, after the Plaza, after the Fourth Street Market, I had searched just about everywhere I could think of except the beach but even for Jessica, I wasn't willing to go back there yet. I sighed and gave up, turning the car back towards home. I was going to have to trust that she'd come back. It was a hard thing to accept but I'd been given no other choice.

When I pulled into the driveway, I got out first, leaving James in the passenger seat, and ran inside, searching each and every room and calling my sister's name. She wasn't there and it was starting to get dark. I took a deep breath and approached Grandma Willa. She was hunched in her favorite rocking chair and halfway through a blue and purple sock. She paused in her knitting to look up at me.

“
Hello there, Tater Tot, are you hungry?” I frowned and tried to reconnect with the hug that she'd given me earlier, the desperate search for human connection that I'd found in her arms.

“
Have you seen Jessie?” I asked, purposely using my sister's childhood nickname. Grandma Willa shook her head and I felt my heart catch in my throat. Jessica still wasn't back yet. I checked the cuckoo clock on the wall above the couch. It was only three o'clock. It still wasn't too late for her to come home. I went back outside and checked for the harpies. They were gone and so was James. A momentary stab of panic entered my chest.
What if he's left, too?

I ran back inside and checked the pretty room. James was sprawled across the bed on his stomach. His head was buried in one of the pink pillows and his sweatshirt was draped over him like a blanket. I decided to leave him alone. He needed time to process, I needed time to understand. I ventured back up to my room and stood with uncertainty in the doorway. It was the first time in days that I'd had the freedom to do anything. There were no responsibilities, no assignments, no dead people. I breathed in the air that still smelt a little bit like decay and sat down on the edge of my bed, fingers twitching with anticipation.

I didn't know what to do. Reading seemed like a far away treat, a worm dangling in the distance from a fisherman's hook. If I took the bait, I might never come back. I avoided my book collection and glanced at my laptop. All I'd ever done on that was study taxidermy and order supplies or talk to Boyd, one of which was no longer appealing, the other, no longer possible. I tucked the sweatshirt into my mouth and sucked on it. The antique clock ticked by in warning.
You only have so much time left,
it said.
Make the most of it.
I stood back up and paced.

Hours later, I found myself on my bed, belly down, rereading the book I had finished the day Boyd died. My brother's notes were still as engaging, still as beautiful, as the day I'd dismissed them as nothing. I still didn't believe what he'd written. Maybe, I believed it even less now. Still, it didn't matter. What mattered was finding Jessica and embracing her and Grandma Willa. They were the family I had left. I had to make them count.

I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes, pulling the book and a picture of Boyd tight against my chest.

Why can't I go back in time and be a normal kid in a normal place with a father that doesn't die the day before her third birthday and a mother that still cares and a little brother that's watched and doesn't drown? Why can't I go back and tell Abe not to go to that concert? Why, oh why, can't I save Jessica and Boyd?

I threw the book to the floor and tried to remember that James, despite our short time together, was the one that was teaching me how to breathe again.

“
Why are you doing this to me?” Boyd says. I look away because I can't take the pain in his eyes, the feelings of hurt and betrayal. I did that. Me. He's sitting in his bed with the covers crumpled around his waist and I think he might be crying. I pretend not to notice and bend down to tie my sneakers.

“
Are we going to that concert on Friday?” I ask. Avoidance. I have always relied on avoidance to help me get through things. This was my own fault but it makes no difference. I pretend not to hear his next question.

“
Do you love me?” He asks. I sit up and huff, adjusting my hood angrily. He knows that I love him but not in that way.

“
What am I supposed to say to that?” I snap, turning and facing the mirror that backs Boyd's bedroom door. James' face stares back at me. It's a symbol of how similar we are. I just don't know to what extent yet.

“
Don't leave like this.” Four words that mean nothing and everything all at once. I leave and I know in my heart that a few, short months later, this is what kills him.

When I woke up, blonde hair was plastered across my lips, suffocating me.
I'm drowning in memories and pain.
I reached up and peeled it away from my face, taking a hot, heavy breath of the stagnant, attic air. I pushed my aching body up, my back screaming at me in protest from sleeping twisted, and propped open the single window. The night was alive with sounds and movement, both foreign and familiar. I suddenly wished I could speak its language but then, I've never really been the outdoor type. I checked the attic clock, tilting it so that the moonlight illuminated the numbers enough for me to read. It was late. Ten o'clock and still no Jessica. I changed into a fresh set of clothes, another pair of dark jeans, a purple hoodie, and a pair of yellow Converse that Boyd had gotten me for my birthday. He'd felt guilty since they were from the thrift store and not new. I didn't care. I had hugged him and told him that they were perfect. I wished I'd told him how perfect he was as a friend.

Guilt nibbled at me as I walked down the stairs slowly, trying not to wake either Grandma Willa or James. It felt like I'd been dipped in a pool of piranhas. Each little memory, each mistake, each wrong word was like a piece being bitten off of my soul. I should've been nicer to Boyd.
I should be nicer to James.

I checked the upstairs bedrooms for Jessica and then went down the second set of stairs and stood by the door to the pretty bedroom. The lights were off. I tried the door handle gently. It was unlocked.

James was lying exactly as I'd left him, on his belly with his arms folded under his face. It was hard to tell in the dark but I was pretty sure he was sleeping. I paused in the doorway for several minutes and tried to justify my behavior towards him earlier. He loved Sydney and he wanted her to be with him. I got that but I had to find her and send her to the library. As soon as I found Jessica, I would go. It might hurt at first but he would thank me for it later when we sent her on. He could say goodbye for real then. I squeezed my eyes closed and blinked back tears. I had to do this and hope that, when the time came, he would do the same for me.

“
I'm sorry for how I treated you earlier,” I whispered, wishing that I could have this kind of frank discussion with a person who was actually awake. Avoidance. There it was again. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. “I only did that because I...I see myself in you, James. Thanks for trying to make friends with me. It takes a brave guy to do that.” James shifted and for one, terrible moment, I thought he was awake and that he'd heard me but he just adjusted himself and fell still again. I turned on my heel and left.

I searched the rest of the downstairs bedrooms for Jessica and decided with a small spurt of anxiety that she definitely wasn't home and hadn't been back since she'd initially left that morning. I opened the front door and walked to the end of the yard, pausing under the shadows of one of the old trees. Anita had told me what kind they were before but I'd forgotten. Standing beneath them made me want to know. They were majestic and old and strong. I envied them their peaceful lives.

I sighed with frustration and glanced up and down the now quiet street. It wasn't like I expected to see her there but I needed to do something. Now that my body was rested, the idea of sitting down just seemed ludicrous. Time was short. People were short lived. I needed to find my sister and I needed to do it soon. I was turning around to go back inside when I saw the school out of the corner of my eye. I hadn't thought to look there yet which was actually pretty stupid. Jessica's life had been school. Sometimes, I had thought she cared more about what the people at school thought about her than what I did.

I ran upstairs, retrieved the harp, Abe's book, and the pocketknife. I thought about waking James but I knew if I did, I'd have to tell him what Nethel and Ehferea had said. I'd have to admit that I was the world's biggest hypocrite. I decided against it and took off into the night, hoping my meager weapons would be enough to fight off any attacks against my heart. I couldn't lose her yet. We needed more time together and if she did have to go, if it was really what was best for, then nobody could do it but me. I walked faster.

The night transformed the school into an asylum in my mind. The bars over the first floor windows were there to keep patients in and not students out, the gate was locked tight to hold back hordes of the insane and not to prevent graffiti artists from practicing their craft. Everything evolved into something else until it came to the point were I was pacing the front wall instead of climbing over it. I looked down at the ground beneath me and debated leaving. I could go back to the house, wake James up and tell him everything. Then, tomorrow we would come back together and look for Jessica. Maybe she would even come home?