Twist (23 page)

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Authors: Roni Teson

BOOK: Twist
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“You're half undressed,” she said. “I think you two need to cool your jets.” She handed me the phone and said, “Mrs. Gray is on the line . . . and I want you to leave the door open.”

With the phone squeezed between my cheek and shoulder, I buttoned up my shirt and said “Hello?”

“I gave you the wrong pills,” Mrs. Gray said. “I'll have a courier drop the right ones over so you can still take one in the morning.”

“What are these pills?” I asked.

“Too strong,” she said. “I'm sorry. I grabbed the wrong bottle.”

“Does it do the same thing?” The phone fell to the ground. I grabbed it and said, “Sorry, I dropped the phone. What do these pills do?” My voice was edgy.

“What's wrong, did you take one already?” she said.

“Not exactly.”

“Tell me,” she said.

I stepped outside of my room and whispered, “I gave it to Luke. We owe him that.”

“Why?”

“Because he has brain damage.”


Beatrice! I knew you were up to something. Are you watching him? He may have a seizure. Don't leave him alone. I'll call you back.” The phone went dead.

I walked into the room. Luke was lying on the floor. He motioned for me to lie down with him. “Are you tired?” I asked.

“No, just getting comfortable,” he said. “I'm feeling pretty good.”

I sat on the chair and stared at the phone and then glanced at him. “I'm waiting for a call,” I said.

He smiled at me. “Wait over here.”

“Not until she calls me back,” I said.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

“Like what?” I responded.

“Like you're waiting for me to sprout another head or something.”

“Do you feel anything from that pain pill?” I asked.

“Yeah, my headache's gone,” he said. “Now get over here, weirdo.” He threw the pillow at me.

The phone rang. I picked it up. “Hello.”

“Beatrice, it's Dad,” he said.

The tension left my shoulders. “Daddy,” I said faintly.

“What'd you do?” he said.

“I thought I was helping.” I clutched the phone to my cheek. The pounding in my ears coincided with my heartbeat. I sniffled and said, “He deserves that much, Dad.”

Luke sat up with his eyes bugging out. He mouthed,
your dad?

“Will it work, or did I make him worse?” I asked.


I'm getting my hands on his blood type now.” He sighed. “Never give someone your medicine.”

“Don't freak me out, Dad. He's already almost been killed because of me.”

“The boy is probably going to be all right,” Dad said.

“So I don't need to panic about the pill? Mrs. Gray said he could have a seizure.”

“How long ago did he take it?”

“Half an hour, maybe less.”

“Hmm. Might be long enough to know he's not allergic. The stem cells used for that drug are very specific, by blood type and DNA.”

“Stem cells?”

“Yeah, among other things.”

“Dad, where are you? Is . . . she . . . with you?”

“Hold on, I've got to look at my text message. I've got an answer on your friend—whom I told you stay away from.”

“Well, I only remembered that recently,” I whined.

He shuffled the phone around and then I heard him talking to someone else. Finally, “Beatrice, you still there?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“I'm not sure that pill will help him, but I don't think it will hurt. You need to watch him. If he does have a seizure, put him on his side,” he said.

“So Luke will be okay?”

“Yeah, I told you.”

Luke
was staring at me with a wild look on his face. I put my hand over the receiver and said to him, “I thought that pill would help you, then she called and told me it was the wrong one. I'm sorry.”

“Your dad is on the phone?” He pointed.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, and then into the phone: “Dad?”

A loud horn sounded, right outside. Luke walked over to the window and peered out.

“Dad?” I said again. “Luke, can you go tell them to stop honking their horn.” And then I yelled into the phone, “Dad!”

“It's a red car,” Luke said.

“Just go tell them to stop.” I tapped the phone, which didn't seem to be working anymore. And when it went completely dead, I threw it on the bed.

“Oh, your Aunt Charlotte is talking to him.” Luke's face was pressed against the window. “You might want to go see who he is. She's hugging him.”

I ran downstairs with Luke trailing behind me, asking, “Did you give me a wacky pill? Next time can you warn me?”

“I should have told you.” I went out the front door. “Dad?” My feet flew across the yard.

Charlotte and Dad were standing in the street, hugging.

Luke said, “Who's that woman in the car?”

My eyes shifted to the person in the passenger seat. I strode past Dad and Charlotte and went to the other side of the car. I bent down to the window. “Mom!”

I
yanked on the handle. Her frail body was a sight to be seen. I helped her out of the car and Aunt Charlotte pushed my father away. “Grace?” she yelled, and then started bawling.

Aunt Charlotte and I helped Mom into the house. I heard Luke say to Dad, “It's a pleasure to meet you sir.” I lifted my head from Mom and caught a glimpse of Dad standing near Luke. At least he hadn't punched him.

“Your father is something else,” Mom said. “He pulled it off. We're alive.”

“No, you're something else,” I said. “I'm alive because of you.”

Aunt Charlotte's mascara was smeared all over her face as she hugged Mom and babbled about how grateful she was. Finally, after we were settled in the living room, she asked, “What about the FBI? And that secret-mission stuff—and Teddy being arrested?”

Mom said, “They got what they wanted.”

“The cruelest thing anyone can do is to fake their own death.” Tears streamed down Aunt Charlotte's face. “How could you do this to me? And to Beatrice.”

“Grace didn't know,” Dad said. “She was in a vegetative state. I did it.”

“Why?”

“I thought they'd leave me alone. I was so close.” Dad closed his eyes. “Then things got complicated.” He turned to Aunt Charlotte. “Grace has had to relearn everything. We—”

Aunt Charlotte broke in angrily. “Where have you been?”

“I did what I had to, to keep my family alive,” Dad said. “I'm sorry if it hurt you. We were in Seattle, and now we're going to stay here. I've set up a lab nearby.”

“This didn't just resolve itself, Dad,” I said.


True, we had Oliver Campbell on our side. He negotiated my freedom.”

“You just handed over the drug?” I asked.

“Not exactly,” he said.

“I didn't think it was that simple,” I said.

Mom patted my leg. “Some things are, honey.”

“Well, tell me how it ended with the FBI,” I said. “You were on the news and in magazines.”

Dad smiled. The lines around his lips weren't so defined now, and his hair was only dusted with gray. No disguises today. “You realize what this drug can do, don't you?”

“Yes,” I said.

Aunt Charlotte and I were sitting on the couch, with Mom sandwiched between us and Luke standing nearby. Dad was in front of the TV set. All eyes were focused on him.

“I could picture it, MDT, getting into the wrong hands.” Dad's foot pointed straight, as he bent down on one knee so he could be at our eye level. “The NSA wanted this drug so bad, and I'd refused for so long because it wasn't ready. I was smart about eluding them.” He smirked. “But that was exhausting. So this time, when Agent Carter asked me what I wanted, I was ready.”

“The answer was easy.” He paused, with his index finger in the air.

I held my breath, and we all seemed to lean in toward him at the same time. “Finish the story!” I demanded


So you say,” he teased. And then he stood up and frowned. “All kidding aside, I have a highly classified agreement with the federal government and they now have limited use of my—our—drug.”

“Are you sure you're not nuts, too?” I said. “After everything they went through to capture you.”

“In reality, I turned myself in,” he said. “And we pulled off the impossible.”

“Am I hallucinating?” I asked.

Mom's grip strengthened around my hand. “It's over, dear. It's over.”

Aunt Charlotte sniffled and clung to my mom. I sat quietly, not convinced we were done with the espionage.

Dad and Luke wandered into the kitchen where they had an intense conversation. I hoped Dad wasn't going to be mean to him, after everything Luke had been through.

The front door flew open and Uncle George came stomping in. His eyes moved from Dad on one side of the house to Mom on the other. “What the . . .” He dropped his keys and leaped into the air. “No way!”

He ran to Dad and hugged him, then over to Mom. “How can this even be possible?” he said as he grabbed her hand and massaged her arm. “You feel warm and alive.”

I listened while Mom explained to Uncle George and Aunt Charlotte about my illness, and about what she'd been through.

I walked over to Luke. “Is this really happening? Can you believe this?”

“No,” he said. “Beatrice Malcolm, force of
one
.” He put his arms around me and whispered in my ear, “Your dad's pissed at me.”

I
peered around Luke and saw that Dad had taken my spot on the couch next to Mom. He was holding her. When Dad glared at Luke, Luke took his hands off of me and held them up, and Uncle George chuckled.

Luke held my hand and we walked out the front door. “Your dad offered to help me. Said it was only because of you, and that he doesn't like me.”

I grimaced.

“He's not convinced that any damage I have is permanent.” Luke looked back over his shoulder, and then he put his arms around me. “Beatrice Malcolm, what's it feel like to have your family back?”

“Incredible. It doesn't seem real.”

We laughed and hugged. Swirls filled my head, just like before. Then Luke pushed away from me when Mom and Dad stepped outside. Aunt Charlotte and Uncle George followed.

“What do you think of Jessica Gray?” Dad said, as he approached. “She's smart.”

I chuckled and said, “Be smart.”

“Bea smart, Beatrice smart, she's so smart it hurts,” Dad sang.

“It's really true now,” I said. “Unless I'm completely nuts and this is one big illusion.”

Mom's warm hand touched my arm. “We both might be seeing things. That'd be some trick, wouldn't it?” She held on to my dad's waist and they moved slowly toward the car. “Beatrice, your father's taking me to our hotel, and he's off to the lab.”

“Don't leave me again,” I said.


Your Aunt Charlotte's going to drop you off tomorrow. You and I will have some alone time.”

After he helped Mom into the car, Dad waved me over. His eyelids looked heavy. A tear fell down his cheek.

“What's wrong, we're all together,” I said.

He wiped his face with his shirtsleeve. “In the next week or so we truly will be. Your mother's going to find a house, near Charlotte, and we'll stay there for a while.”

“Is something wrong?”

He hugged me, but he was sad. “Everything's good. We had a close call, that's all.”

“I'm going with you,” I said.

Dad squeezed me.

“I want to be with you,” I said.

“I know,” he said. “I'm proud of you for handling yourself so well.”

That made my stomach light up, but still, everything seemed so crazy. “I'm not sure this is real,” I said.

Dad chuckled. “Oh, it's real. It's just something no one will ever believe. I promise, we will all be under one roof in the next week or so.”

“I want a minute alone with Mom,” I said.

Dad opened the car door and motioned for me to sit. I tucked my legs under the dash, and he closed the door. Mom put her hand on mine, and we sat there crying, again. I gulped. “Are you going to recover, physically?” I asked.

Her grip tightened around my fingers. “I'm giving it my best shot.”


Is your brain on warp speed, like mine?”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “Kind of frightening, isn't it?”

She handed me a tissue and I wiped my nose. “What do I do about this boy?” I asked.

“What do you want to do?” She looked into my eyes. “He's cute.”

I giggled. “I know.”

“Why don't you just enjoy each other's company?”

I felt the dark cloud—and for no reason.

“Why are you so sad, honey? Is something wrong?” Mom asked.

“I suppose everything is right, and I'm not used to that,” I said. “What about this medicine, this illness, and . . .”

“And what?” Mom said. “In reality, Bea, we only have this moment. Why not enjoy it?”

“So it doesn't matter if I'm crazy and in the middle of a delusion, because I'm happy?” I asked.

Mom chuckled. “Not exactly, but that could work.” Her fingers brushed across my cheek. “No matter what, Bea, know that I love you, and so does your father.”

We hugged and then I somehow ended up standing in the street. And as the car drove off and I walked into the house I thought,
How could I not know that they loved me? And so what if I'm hallucinating, at least my mom is alive
.

“Where you been?” Uncle George asked.

Aunt Charlotte saw the look on my face. “Did you see them again?” she asked.


Yes, I said. Don't ruin it by explaining anything. I like it the way it is, right now, in my head.”

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