There Will Be Lies (26 page)

I want to say to my lawyer: I don’t care that I can’t hear. But someone just took my (mom) away, my (mom) took me away, and I never had any friends anyway, so now I don’t have anyone to touch, and the ground is gone below my feet, and I don’t have anyone and so I’m like a swift, lost in the wide unanchored air, and I don’t have love any more.

But I don’t say any of that. It would take way too long.

I don’t want to live with them
, is what I do say, or what Melany with a
y
says for me. We’re in a private room that my lawyer says they’re not allowed to bug, unless they want the whole Supreme Court to climb up their asses, and that makes me smile at least.

It’ll be OK
, says my lawyer. Her name is Carla Rainer and she has a faint moustache. Plain gold band on her ring finger.
You’ll have regular visits from Child Protective Services, to check up on you. And the state is providing a counsellor for you. They know it’s important to manage your, ah, return to, uh, your birth parents
.

No
, I say.
It’s not that. It’s just, I don’t know them. I want to be on my own
.

She sighs, but the movement of her body tells me it’s a sympathetic sigh, not an irritated one.
You don’t have a choice, I’m afraid
, she says.
You’re a minor. If you’d been mistreated by them, there’d be a case for protective custody, but … you’re their daughter
.

So we go back to, what, Alaska?

You don’t want to do that?

It’s Alaska!

She smiles.
I think they’re happy to stay here as long as you need. As you can imagine, they want very much to get to know you. You know they rented a place?

Yes
.

So, yeah, I think we could negotiate for a … transition period here in Arizona
.

Like a diver going into a decompression tank
, I say. It takes Melany some time to understand what I’m saying, and translate it. I don’t know the sign for decompression tank, so I have to kind of make it up.

But Melany gets it, I guess. The lawyer, Carla, does an eyebrows-up face, like it’s somehow surprising that I have watched documentaries and read books.
Yes. Probably not long, though. I mean, they have jobs
.

I had not thought of this.
What do they do?

Your father – Michael – is a journalist. Your mother – Jennifer – is a teacher
.

Wow, I think.
Other kids?

Five
, she says.
Three older than you. Two younger. They are
… She consults some notes.
Tyler and James are in college. Victoria is six, she’s the youngest, and Richie, he’s in middle school. And Anna is in the army
.

Oh
, I say. I have five brothers and sisters. This information is somehow too big to fit into my head.

And in a month’s time?
I ask.

Huh?

When I’m eighteen. What happens then? Can I live on my own?

She sits back.
Interesting question
, she says.
I guess you would be free to live wherever you want. I mean, I need to make some phone calls, check some precedents. If there even are any. I think that’s what it would mean, though. But your parents have made it clear they want to support you. Pay for any education needs that you might have, I’m told that your IQ is
–

I don’t need their money
, I say.
So, for now, I have to stay with them, right? For a month?

Yes
.

OK
, I say.
Fine
. I am aware that I’m being a bitch, please don’t think I’m not. But you have to understand – I don’t KNOW these people. I might as well be going to live with total strangers. I AM going to live with total strangers.

I know they have missed me. I know this is a big party for them. But it’s not a win-win situation for me, to say the fricking least.

I have one more item
, says my lawyer.

Yes?

Luke Scheinberg
.

It takes some time for Melany to spell this out. I am blank for a moment, a piece of paper waiting for words, then I get it.

Oh, right
. I dimly remember someone, the city attorney maybe, using that surname.

He wants to see you
.

Really? Why?

I don’t know
, she says.
He won’t say. But he insists on speaking to you personally
. She puts her hands up.
You don’t have to. But if you want to, I would be present. And Melany, of course
.

When?
I say.

He’s in the building
, says the lawyer.
He’s waiting. You could see him anytime. But like I say, it’s your call
.

I shrug. Whatever.

So I should let him come?

Sure
, I say.
How much worse can things get?

If you are ever tempted to say these words, or sign them, or whatever, here is my advice: don’t. Because here is the thing: it might not be right away, it might not be immediate, but the truth is, things can always get worse.

Much, much worse.

Luke is nervous, I can see it in his eyes.

Don’t worry
, I say as he comes into the meeting room.
I’m not going to stab you
.

Melany doesn’t translate this. My lawyer is sitting in a corner, making notes, not saying anything, just showing everyone she’s there. Showing Luke she’s there, mainly, I guess.

It’s weird seeing Luke here, under the fluorescent lights of the federal building. He looks drawn, grey, like he hasn’t slept in forever. His hand hangs by his side, in its white bandage. He can’t seem to meet my eye.

Hello, Luke
, I say.

Melany translates this time.

Hello
, he says.
How are you feeling?

I blink.
Great
, I say.
My mom is not my real mom. I’m some other person from who I thought I was. It’s fantastic
.

Melany signs quickly.

I’m sorry
, says Luke.

Don’t be
, I say.
Look at your hand. At least I stopped you getting killed with a rock. And it’s a good thing you don’t drink – otherwise you’d have had a massive overdose of codeine
.

Melany lowers her eyebrows at me, like, what? I shake my head – forget it.

How’s the hand?
I say, and Melany puts it on to the air as vibrations, and into Luke’s ears.

Not too bad
, says Luke.
Missed the artery. Some nerve damage, but could be worse
.

I nod. I’m glad.

So
… he says.
So, I wanted to let you know about something
.

OK
, I say.

He doesn’t know how to begin. He sits down, and I don’t, and that just makes him more uncomfortable. He takes a deep breath, as if he’s going to have to dive deep down inside himself to bring up his next words; like pearls.
See, here’s the thing
, he says.
The media want the story on you. My two days in the desert with – well, you know. But I don’t want to tell. I … I want you to have a life again, and I don’t see how you could, after all this, if people knew who you were. I mean
… He looks over at Carla.
You’re her lawyer, right?

Yes
, says Carla, or at least I guess she does, I’m not looking at her.

So you’ll want to get some kind of anonymity for her? I mean, there’s been no photos of … Shelby, in the news
.

We want to protect her, yes
, says Carla slowly. I am looking at her now.

She might get a new name, a new identity? I mean, if and when she’s not living with her birth parents
.

Ye-e-e-e-es
, says Carla.
She might
. Her tone is like: Where are you going with this?

So
, says Luke, and I see for the first time that he is very far from stupid.
That’s what I wanted to tell you. That I wouldn’t blow it.
I won’t, you know, say that you’re deaf or anything. I mean, that could really screw your cover
.

Uh
…
thank you
, I say.

You should see what they’ve offered me
, he says.
We’re talking hundreds of thousands. But you’re just a girl. You deserve a new life
.

My mind is like this now, not blank, but like static, a detuned TV:

*****************************************************
*****************************************************
*****************************************************

I don’t know what to think about any of this. I hadn’t even considered the idea of a new identity, I mean I knew I’d be living with my real mom and dad for a month, but wouldn’t their names be public knowledge? Or maybe Luke is thinking of when I leave their house, when I’m eighteen … Shit, I think, he really is smart. I didn’t consider ANY of this.

Carla, it seems, has though.

I see
, she says.
You have been offered a lot. So how much do you want from Shelby to keep her story to yourself? To not reveal details, like her deafness?
Here’s one thing I like about my lawyer: she doesn’t put ellipses of hesitation before my name, like she’s not sure if she should say it, because it’s not my real name any more.

Luke looks appalled. He smacks the table with his bandaged hand, then curses. His face goes a little purple.
NO
, he says.
NO
. He turns to me.
I just wanted to tell you, in person, that I would not speak of you. For any money. And that I’m sorry for what has happened to you
.

Suddenly, without warning, I am crying; the tears are hot in my eyes, burning.

Thank you
, I say.
Thank you
. And then I think of how I kept thinking he was a douche, how I laughed at him inside my own head, at his awful stories, his weight, his lazy half-blind eye, which even now is looking at me milkily, sadly. Guilt is a twisting kitten inside me.
I’m so sorry
, I say, and this time I say it with my mouth.
I’m so so sorry
.

It’s not your fault
, says Luke, totally missing my point.
You didn’t know who she was
.

No, I think. No, I didn’t.

Luke levers himself up from the table.
Well, that was all I wanted to say
, he says.
Thank you for your time
.

Thank you, Luke
, I say, again with my mouth. He’s been so kind, it is making me cry all over again, and he seems to sense it’s too much for me, because he opens the door and leaves.

Well
, says Carla.
That was an interesting first
.

What?

Someone who doesn’t want money. I don’t think I’ve met one before
.

I smile through my tears.
You’re a lawyer. You wouldn’t
.

She smiles back.
OK
, she says.
I think that’s it for this morning. I’ve asked for the meeting with your parents to be put back by a couple of hours. Give you a chance to rest
.

Thanks
, I say.

Anything you want in the meantime?
she asks.

I shake my head and she starts towards the door.

No, wait
, I say, out loud, which is becoming a habit.

Yes?
she says.

There is something I want
, I say.
Something of mine
.

Right
, says my lawyer.
That should be doable
.

My cell phone
, I say.

Where is it?

It was in the cabin
, I say.
Plugged into the wall
.

The FBI took some things into evidence that they’re still analysing
, she says.
Luke’s car, stuff like that. But it’s your cell, and you haven’t committed a crime. I’ll have it returned to you. Anything else?

No
, I say. I mean, my baseball bat is there too, but that doesn’t seem important now.

Wait
, I say.
There is something
.

Yes?

I want a pack of cigarettes. And a lighter
.

What brand?

It doesn’t matter
.

She looks at me, a little surprised; maybe I look really clean cut or something. Straight edge.
You smoke?

No
, I say.
But I’m thinking of starting
.

I’m ready
, I say.

Carla opens the door and I walk in.

The mother, Jennifer, takes a step towards me, her hand going to the cross at her neck at the same time, and seems about to throw her arms around me, but the father, Michael, must have some kind of empathy, some kind of sense of the state of mind of others, because he puts a hand on her shoulder and stops her.

Still – he can’t look at me. His gaze lands on mine and then ricochets off, hits a lamp; a computer on a desk.

The mother is at least not crying this time, though her eyes are red, like she just stopped. She touches her cross.

She looks at me. She touches her cross.

She sort of half smiles. She touches her cross.

And do you see how I am subliminally telling you how she KEEPS TOUCHING THAT CROSS? She seems like a person carved out of worry, like the cross is the only thing stopping her from breaking into a thousand pieces; an anchor.

Angelica
, she says, and for a second, a stupid second, I don’t know who she’s talking to. OH YES, I realise. THAT WOULD BE ME.

She starts talking again and Melany signs beside me.

It’s all right
, I sign back to Melany.
I can lip-read. My mom taught
–

Oh. I keep doing that. Keep calling her mom.

Melany catches my look of horror and gives me a sympathetic, like, grimace-smile.
You’re sure?

Yes
, I say.

What is she saying?
says Michael.