Bottled Abyss (24 page)

“She was likely hit by a car, probably by somebody she knew. That person must have dragged her into the house. None of the kids saw this, but how else could it have happened? People don’t get half their bodies crushed in the powder room… Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so flip.”

Janet was numb. “No, that’s okay.”

“I mean, another hit and run, a year later…”

“Yes, uh, Becca, I need to go.”

“Sure. We’ll talk later about the search. Sorry to hear about your neighbor.”

“Yes. Goodbye.”

The call ended and Janet still had the phone pressed to her ear. Evan tapped his foot anxiously. “Someone else you know passed away?”

Dread claimed Janet, bodily. She blinked at black stars before her eyes, fighting the dizziness overcoming her. From the bottom of her gut, a scream lay in waiting.
The coins from the bottle were behind this…

“We have to find Faye.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you explain—”

She throttled Evan by his striped shirt. “We have to go now!”

11

Evan stamped the gas as he turned onto the main boulevard. “You’re flipping me out, Jan. Can you please tell me now?”

Janet scanned the road, tapping her teeth in a frenzy. Glacial sweat beaded down her back. Her heart seemed to roll in place rather than beat. “Stop talking and watch for the truck. If Faye passes us, we need to U-turn.”

“I talk when I’m nervous.”

She tried Faye’s number again. It rang four times before going to voice mail.
Hiya, this is Faye. Leeeeeeave me a message!

“There’s Lucky’s.”

Evan pulled into the busy car wash, worked his way around several idling Ford 350s and then coasted by a bank of vehicles being rubbed down with chammies. A few attendants had long accordion hosed vacuums stretched inside cars.

“Not here. You said there’s another place she goes?”

“United Star or something like that. It’s just a few blocks away.”

“Go,” said Janet.

Evan breathed out in frustration. “Yes, master.”

He made a sharp right turn and drove past an industrial laundry. Janet watched the blue uniformed workers hanging around their cars, talking, smoking cigarettes, unaware. Janet envied them.

Evan came to a stop at a red light.

“Bust it.”

“Janet, are you kidding? That’s illegal.”

“Goddamnit, bust the light!”

“Fine!” The Jeep lurched forward with an anti-climatic shutter. As they crossed the intersection Evan searched around in a panic. “Is that a cop?”

Janet glanced back. “It’s a mailman.”

“Oh.”

“You’re doing fine, Evan.”

“I don’t feel fine.”

The place was called Star Wash USA, not what Evan had named, but then he’d never much been one for details. Empty spaces abounded at this car wash, the other having been four or five times more crowded. Yet, from car to truck to SUV to mini-van and back, people were everywhere Janet looked: a large family waited at umbrella-topped tables, a man raised a towel over his head and honked the horn of a Suburban, two young blonde high-schoolers yapped loudly as they strolled along with Wienerschnitzel bags. All of this, but no Faye.

Evan ran his fingers through his dark, coarse hair. “Should we go inside and ask somebody if they saw her?”

Janet shook her head. “They won’t know. That’ll just waste time.”

“So what do we do?”

She drummed on her teeth some more. “Get back to my house as fast as we can. If she isn’t there, we’ll have to hope she shows soon.”

Evan sighed and put the Jeep in gear.

FURY

Shortcut through my orange groves—heaven—so many memories here—my secret place where I don’t need to please anybody—yes, Faye’s Wonderland— this place hasn’t lost its magic since the day I found it—that day; crying so hard about Melody and the Jeep went off road for a moment—saw that dirt path calling me—a simple whim:
I wonder if I can bypass the freeway and just shoot through the groves instead
—? It didn’t save as much time as I’d hoped for, but after all that had happened, the grove was the perfect place to transcend melancholy—

Drive, watching rows of silhouetted orange trees flicker with the sun’s intermittent drum beat—remember the times coming here to reflect about happier, less tragic things, to pick fruit, to meet with the immigrants and practice
español
, practice being alive—there was so much talk of death that I only had my orange grove kingdom to hide in—this place was another life, something beyond Evan—and at first, I was ashamed of keeping it all to myself, but as time passed I relished the secret—enjoy my visits here—among my mistakes, all of my trips out here have been a blessing—

Want to get out and find some avocados—only a few avocado trees grow out here—Juan and Antonio said their parents planted them for fun, but the trees choked off the irrigation, so some had to be culled back—the three trees still had abundant avocado growth—Juan said I was welcome to them whenever—miss him, miss Tony as well, miss them all, even their two sisters who hated me; haven’t seen any of them over the last couple months—different faces appear between the trees, strangers with questions in their eyes—my secret friends have moved on, but that doesn’t mean I have to—

Something big moves in the trees—almost animal-like, but now it’s gone—an illusion—

Stop the truck at the big avocado tree near the storage yard—the tree always looks like a wooden monster with a thousand arms held out—no workers hang around today—makes me nervy—

Guacamole dip would be nice—just need to stop by for some chips—and Janet loves my tacos—

Tears come to my eyes—
you think tacos will sew up that hole in her heart, how stupid you are
—a surge of futility—shake it away—my special place is supposed to combat these feelings—don’t want my private Neverland to ever lose its power—someday, would love to bring the baby here, see if he or she will also fall in love with the orange blossoms and warm shadows—

Everything will be okay
—mantra, mantra time—close the truck’s door, realize I forgot a grocery bag for the avocados—doesn’t matter now—keep walking toward the tree—oddly compelled, but then that’s how this place works on me—shoes crunch old dead leaves—pass right through a spider web and don’t even bother to wipe it off—! My head conjures baffling ideas of loneliness and self hatred—
forget the baby; it’s doomed too
—what baby—? There is a sound behind me—someone is approaching—Juan—Antonio—will they try to stop me—? Stop me from doing what—? But I know—I can’t wait to slip that rope around my neck—this was a long time coming—finally understand you Janet, understand the black-black place you were in, understand why this can be a precious self-serving gift—can remain here in my wonderneverfantasyland forever more—Evan will not miss me—

Trees reveal another glimpse of the shifting thing—some fruit picking machine I’ve never seen before—? Wind blows strong, leaves dance above—eyes are playing tricks—nobody’s out there—am alone—which is perfect—which is right—which is how it should be for my ending—grabbing onto the tree trunk, hug it, shimmy up, haven’t climbed a tree since maybe I was a teenager, forget how long— difficult to climb with this coin still in my hand—