The Rules for Disappearing (28 page)

the last week and measure it against the food pyramid to see if we N—

eat healthy.”

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“Yours sounds easier to recreate than ours.”

We finish our project around the same time they finish theirs.

I’m putting everything back in the envelope when Ethan comes up to the table. “Can you stay awhile?”

“Yeah, that should be fine.” I may need to make one more call

to Teeny, though.

“Good. My mom’s got every movie ever made. Let’s pick one out

and head to my room.”

We walk to the built-in cabinets under the flat-screen and he

opens a drawer that has hundreds of movies in slots. Going down the titles one by one, we look for a movie we both want to watch.

About halfway through the search, I hear Emma behind me.

“What the hell is all this? You carry around five pairs of underwear in your bag? Are you afraid you’re gonna crap all over yourself or something? There’s even little girl panties in here. Look, here’s some little kid’s books. This is what you haul around every day? Are you into kids or something, freak?”

Before I can even think about what I’m doing, I launch myself

across the room and push Emma off the couch, away from my bag.

“Get out of my stuff!” I knock her away and start stuffing everything back inside. I’m mortified.

Ethan bends down to try and help me pick my things off the

ground, but I push him away. He starts yelling at Emma and Ben starts yelling at him. I don’t even hear the words; just finish getting everything back in my bag. I’m up and racing out the front door, not stopping even when Ethan calls my name. I’m halfway down the

block when his truck breaks next to me. He hops out and physically

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restrains me from going any farther.

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“Meg, I’m sorry. Emma is such a bitch. I know those are Mary’s things. Who cares what’s in your bag?” He pulls me in his arms. I don’t return the gesture.

I’m so embarrassed, I don’t want to be around him right now.

But it’s too cold to walk all the way home.

“Please take me home,” I mumble in his chest, my warm breath

puffing out in front of me. I can’t even look at him. He stands frozen in place and I repeat, “Please, just take me home.”

He lets me go and I get in the truck. Ethan slams his hand down on the hood before getting back inside.

“Can we talk about this?”

“No.”

The ride to my house is a quiet one. Once we’re in the park-

ing lot, Ethan pulls me to him. I bury my head in his shoulder and cringe as I recall Emma’s expression when she was going through my bag. It
would
look ridiculous to someone else, carrying around all that stuff. But these are my only possessions in the entire world right now, and she pawed through all of them, making fun of my things. Teeny’s things.

We stay this way for a few minutes until I pull away. He reaches for the door handle. “I’ll walk you up.”

I glance at my house and see a dark figure lying on the front

steps. My breath sucks in.

It’s my mother.

S—

N—

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RULES FOR DISAPPEARING

BY WITNESS PROTECTION PRISONER #18A7R04M:

Don’t be afraid to get down and dirty.

BeforeI can get my paralyzed body to react, Mom moves.

Slightly.

I grab Ethan’s arm. “No! Don’t get out of the truck.”

He looks out the front windshield and sees her too. “Let me

help you.”

I don’t want him to know my mother like this. If he could have known her before Witness Protection, he wouldn’t recognize the woman on the ground. “No. Please don’t stay when I get out of the truck. Promise you’ll drive away the second I close the door.” My voice sounds strained.

He squeezes my hand. “Are you sure?”

“Please,” I beg.

Flinging the door open, I jump out of the truck before I change my mind. My mind races with thoughts of my mother. The tem-perature is so cold tonight, and there’s no telling how long she’s been out here. I hear the truck back out of the spot, but I don’t turn

—S

around to watch him go. I race toward the steps.

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Mom looks blue when I get to her on the steps. She’s only

wearing pajama bottoms and a long-sleeve T-shirt. The smell of alcohol and vomit are almost more than I can handle.

I try to get her to put her arms around me, so I can wrap mine around her torso. They slip off my shoulders each time I try.

I grab under her armpits and struggle to lift her. She’s a dead weight.

“Mom, can you hear me? Please, Mom, help me get you inside.”

I’m sobbing now, but just as I lower her down so I can go get Dad, Ethan’s truck screeches back into the parking lot. He jumps out of the truck before it comes to a full stop and runs up the steps.

Choking on words that will get him back in his truck, I let out a scared cry. I can’t bear for him to see this.

“Meg, I can’t leave you like this. I’m going to help you. You

won’t be able to lift her. I’ll go once she’s inside.”

He’s pure determination as he puts one hand under Mom’s knees

and the other under her back. I hop in front of him to open the door as he carries her up the remaining steps. He takes her straight to the couch where he puts her down gently.

We look at one another for just a few seconds, and then he’s

gone.

I rush to her on the couch and slap her face a few times. “Mom!

Mom! Open your eyes.”

Her skin feels like ice. Running into my room, I pull my com-

forter off my bed. I look quickly to Teeny’s bed and I’m relieved to see her in a deep sleep. I throw open the door to Dad’s room. Even S—

in the dark I can see the bed is empty. My stomach drops. I stand N—

there a moment before running back into the den.

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Once the blanket covers mom, I sit down on the floor. “Mom,

please open your eyes. I don’t know if you’re okay or not. I don’t know if I need to call an ambulance. Please, Mom.”

I slap her face a few more times and her eyes flutter. “Mom!

Mom! Open your eyes. Try to talk to me.”

“What, what? Tooooo early. Sleeping.” Her eyes roll back in her head.

“Mom, you have to wake up.” I shake her almost violently now.

“Mom, please.”

“Mom, sit up. I’m going to call 911 if you don’t sit up.” I glance at the phone in the kitchen. It’s shattered to pieces. What happened here?

“Nooooo,” she moans. “I can’t move anymore. No more names.

I want to go home.”

“I know, me too.” Where’s Dad?

I hear the door handle turn. I’m terrified. Dad walks in and my vision blurs with tears.

He steps into the living room with the suits right behind him.

Not now!

He races to Mom on the couch. “What happened?” He’s got a

bloody lip and blackened eye.

“I d-d-don’t know,” I stutter. “I came home and found her passed out on the stairs outside.”

He sits down in the chair next to the couch. “She needs help.

She’s going to kill herself at this rate. They’re going to take her to a treatment facility.”

My eyes get huge. “They’re gonna lock her up somewhere?

—S

What happened to your face?”

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“She hit me.”

Oh. My. God. “What about us, do we get to stay here?”

Dad glances at the suits but they watch me. I recognize one of them—Agent Parker, the one who cut all my hair off. I wish Agent Thomas was on duty tonight.

Dad looks back to me. “Mom called the agents earlier and told

them you had your memory back. We went to look for you at Pearl’s since you didn’t come home after work. They’re moving us to a safe house for a while. We’re not in the normal rush this time so we can have a chance to pack first. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“Did she remember talking to me about it?” Trying not to panic.

Dad won’t look at me. “I let it slip,” he whispers.

I’m so screwed.

He moves some of the hair out of Mom’s face then takes a wash-

rag and cleans around her mouth. He’s so sweet and gentle it’s almost too hard to watch. He glances up at me. “Come help me pack for Mom.”

I follow Dad down the hall. They know I remember. We can’t

move. Not now. I’m leaving on Friday, but that won’t happen if we’re stuck in some safe house God knows where. And they’ll start drilling me about that night. Get me ready to testify. I was working out a plan and now this.

He shuts the door and I move to the dresser, pulling Mom’s

clothes out.

“Sissy, have you remembered anything? Do you know anything

about where the ledgers would be?”

S—

I want to tell him but I can’t. He’ll never get out of here unnoN—

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stupid—handing it over to Sanchez won’t solve anything.

I turn from the dresser. “No, Dad. I’m sorry but I don’t.” I rush up to him, putting my arms around him. “Do we have to leave?”

“That’s what the agents want to do. I’ve tried to reason with

them but didn’t get anywhere. They’re insisting. This changes

things drastically now that you remember.”

I don’t like the way he says “insisting.” I’m tempted to tell him my plan but he’ll never let me go alone. The best bet I have is to get the ledgers and make a copy or something to use as insurance against these guys. That’s the only way we’ll be truly free.

I pull away from Dad and together we pack Mom’s stuff.

While Dad gathers the last of her toiletry items together, I rush back to the living room. My mind is racing, running through possibilities. The room is empty except for Agent Parker. Mom’s gone, as well as the suit who was on his cell phone.

“Where’s my mother?” I ask.

“She’s been taken to a hospital. Her condition seemed serious

enough that she needed to be examined.” She stands with arms

folded in front of the door.

“You couldn’t come get us before they took her away?” I pace

around the room.

“We thought it best for it to been done as smoothly as possible.”

Never a scene with these guys.

The suit watches me. She seems nervous, like she’s afraid I’m

about to attack.

Time to get out of here.

It takes a second to alert Dad that Mom’s gone. He barrels

—S

down the hall, yelling at the agent, and I make a big production of

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crying and telling them I’m going to my room. That should keep them out of here a while.

Within minutes, all my things, including the tracking device,

are transferred to a Wal-Mart bag I saved from the store. As fast as Agent Thomas found me in the coffee shop, I’m not a hundred percent sure my bag’s not bugged, so I’m leaving it behind.

Need to leave a note for Dad. I panic a moment, thinking of

where I can put it so the suits don’t see it first. Dad is still in the living room arguing with the suit so I tiptoe to his room and open the closet. I ball the paper up and stuff it inside his tennis shoe. He’ll feel it the second he puts it on. There’s money on the dresser and I take it. I hate stealing from him but there aren’t many options at this point. Since I haven’t gotten my check from Pearl yet I’ll only have enough money for a one-way ticket, but I can’t worry about that right now.

Back in my room, I shrug on my hoodie and grab my heavy

coat, glancing every other second at Teeny to make sure she’s still asleep.

I run to the window, throw it open, and glance one last time at Teeny before I leave her.

Outside, I wish the plastic bag wasn’t white because it’s shining like a beacon.

I step around the building toward the back parking lot. I’m

afraid to go past the front of the house. I’ve got to figure out how I’m going to get to Shreveport and I won’t get far if I’m stuck on foot.

S—

God! I had a plan. Maybe not the best plan out there but it

N—

could’ve worked. And now it’s ruined. I run toward Front Street.

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Maybe I can get a cab to the Interstate and then try to hitch a ride to Shreveport.

I walk one street over from my normal route. This section of

town is deserted this time of night, as most stores and restaurants close early. It’s about eleven, and now I’m afraid I won’t find anywhere open where I can use a phone. I hit the cobblestone street and walk in the direction of the Interstate. Hopefully I’ll come across a gas station soon.

A vehicle pulls out of a side street, the lights sweeping the street.

I duck into an alleyway next to a souvenir shop and try to cram myself in the corner.

The vehicle stops right outside the store. God, I haven’t been gone twenty minutes and they already caught me.

“Meg? What are you doing?”

It’s Ethan.

—S

—N

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RULES FOR DISAPPEARING

BY WITNESS PROTECTION PRISONER #18A7R04M:

Lay a false trail. You make it look like you’re going this way. Then everyone looks that way. Then when they’re going that way, you real y go the other way.