Ghost Time (35 page)

So what happened? he said, leaning back, exhaling. My mom came home and found me like that before I came to. She must’ve been right at the door, and I didn’t hear her coming in, and then she called an ambulance, and then there was nothing I could do. He didn’t say anything, and I was trying so hard to brace myself for whatever was about to happen next, like, if he was going to tell me I wasn’t allowed to see Mel anymore—I don’t know what—but he didn’t. He sighed once more, but more like a huff, then he reached over and grabbed my hand and squeezed it, and he said the nicest thing he’d ever said to me before. Knox said: I’m sorry, Thea. I’m so sorry.

(FIVE MONTHS EARLIER)

6:13 PM

Looking at him, sitting across from me, his eyes, I grabbed his hands, and I had this urge to put them in my mouth, eat him whole, when Cam pulled me forward by the wrists, and he said, That reminds me. I know it’s a little late, but my mom wanted me to ask if you and your mom and Ray would like to join us for Thanksgiving dinner? Mom’ll take care of everything, he said, and I pulled away, saying, You know… that’s so sweet, really, but I don’t think so. I shook my head no, smiling, very sweet, but no, and Cam goes, Why not? You guys have plans? And I go, Yeah, see, the thing is, we don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in my family: it’s against out religion. Thea, seriously, he said, my mom’s so excited, and she wants to meet Renee—. I go, Cam, I don’t think it’s a good idea, and he goes, Why not? I go, For lots of reasons, and he goes, Name one, and I go, Your mom’s educated, for one thing.

He leaned back, against the booth, and he goes, Please. Your mom is educated, I go, No, not anymore. Not since she met Rain Man. Sixteen years of education: gone, in a single loser, and Cam gave me this look like I was overreacting or being too harsh or whatever, and I said, Look, your mom went to Berkeley. She studied film. She’s traveled. She’s sophisticated. My mom looks forward to
Grey’s Anatomy
reruns at nine o’clock. And Ray, do you really think your mom would have anything to talk about with Ray? He goes, Listen. She’s not inviting Raymond for Raymond, and it’s one meal, and my mom wants you there. It’d be rude not to accept her invitation, and you know it. I said, Cam, I see what you’re saying, but what I’m saying is, it’s actually a sign of great respect that I’m trying to get out of this meal. Two o’clock, he said, telling me, not asking me.

Cam goes, Listen. You know what makes this the best Thanksgiving ever? You know what I’m most grateful for this year, Thee? And of course I thought he was talking about us, or more specifically,
me
, about having me in his life, right—he so set me up, too. So I smiled and I go, No, tell me, Cam. What makes this the best Thanksgiving ever and what are you most grateful for? Then he lets out this big, heavy sigh and he goes, Well. What I’m most grateful for is that the LHC and the ATLAS detector have started up, right now, as we speak, he said, tapping his finger on the table. At this very moment, Thee, they’re collecting data that will expand the boundary of all knowledge way beyond our current understanding. Do you
know
what this means for the Standard Model of Particle Physics? I think my face fell, I really do, because I looked at him, then he reached over to grab my hand
and he goes, And I’m grateful for you, of course, he said, and I pulled my hand away, like don’t even touch me right now. On cue, Sharon walked up. How you kids doing over here? she asked, and Cam goes: Peachy, Sharon. We were just making Thanksgiving plans, is all, and I just looked away, thinking,
Great
.

So, as if it wasn’t stressful enough, of course we got in a fight in the car on the way over. Big surprise, right? But I have to say, you’d think Raymond would’ve learned by now, except for the fact that he hasn’t learned a damn thing about me. I mean, we’re halfway to Cam’s house, and I had nothing to say to either one of them, and then Ray looked at me in the rearview and he said, Did you talk to your dad today, Theadorie? I go,
No
. Why would I, Raymond? I asked, looking at him in the rearview, and he goes, You’re a little hard on him, don’t you think? I said, No. I don’t think so, Raymond. And I don’t think it’s any of your business. Raymond, my mom said, reaching across the seat; Thea, she said, turning back, like she was calling a truce, but I just rolled my eyes at her, and looked out my window, and no one said anything else the rest of the way.

So we got there, and Karen met us at the door, and Cam came down the hall. He’d just shaved his head again, and he was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and flat-front chinos—he got all dressed up, and Mom goes,
Oh, Cam…
don’t you look handsome! I turned to her and I go, Please? Karen put her arm over my shoulders, and then Cam took all our coats before he went to get everyone drinks. It was fine, I guess, but then, once we sat down in the living room, Raymond goes, So what brought you to these parts, Karen? And I wanted to crawl under the table. I excused
myself to get something in the kitchen, and Cam followed me. What’s wrong? he whispered. So what brings you to these parts, Karen? I repeated, and Cam goes, He’s just making conversation, and I said, He sounds inbred, Cam. I told you you’d hear the
Deliverance
banjo when we walked through your door, didn’t I? Yes, he said, you did, you’re right. But no one’s blaming you, babe, he said, poking me in the rib, and I turned away. Come on, chill out, he said, and I go, You know, nothing pisses me off like being told to chill out when I’m not chill, Cam.

Breathe, he said, rubbing both my arms. Or does nothing piss you off like being told to breathe when you look like you’re about to explode? I go, I told you this was a bad idea, and he goes, All right. You told me. So, now, here we are in the middle of a bad idea. Let’s just get through it, okay? Okay, I said, knowing he was right, that I was just throwing a fit. But I couldn’t let it go, either: Store-bought, I said. She said they’d handle the pie. My mom told Karen we’d handle the pie and they got store-bought? Cam goes, Thea. It’s not a big deal, but I wouldn’t listen. I go, First time we meet your mom and we buy a pie from Priceline? I said, completely humiliated. Of course we got into it in the car, I said, and Cam goes, Because of the pie? No, because Rain Man butted his nose in. Your dad called, Cam said, knowing right away. I go, Oh, no, my dad
texted
: he never calls. Cam goes, Maybe he’s afraid—. Yeah, that tends to happen when you’re a coward. Seriously, what did deadbeat dads do before texting? Cam grabbed my arms, squeezing, not saying anything.

Finally, he goes, I’m sorry. Me, too, I said. It’s like, your dad’s been dead for ten years and you’re closer to him now than I am to
my dad, and he goes, Do me a favor? I said, What’s that? He goes, Could you just try to have a little fun today? Just a little, he said, squeezing his thumb and index finger together. Then Karen and my mom walked in, smiling at us, like the two teenagers isolating themselves in the kitchen, silly kids. But still, looking at the two of them, both dressed, trying to make this nice day for us all, what could I do but smile? I turned back to Cam, and I nodded yes, I’ll try.

(EIGHT WEEKS LATER)

8:23 AM

I saw Karen today. She came over—didn’t call, didn’t text, she just knocked on our door. I hadn’t been over to see her in weeks. Mostly because it was so hard for me to go outside anymore, but also because it made me so sad, seeing her, how much she’d changed, sunken, ashen. Or maybe how much I’d changed, and now there was this tension between us—the reporters, cameras, cops, the FBI, the lawyers, the threats.

Anyhow, she caught me off guard, coming over first thing in the morning. She could tell I was totally surprised to see her, too, because, before I could say anything, she said she had something for me. I asked her if she wanted to come in, and she shook her head no, then she opened her canvas duffel and pulled out this big cardboard envelope, maybe twelve-by-seventeen, big. She handed it to me, and I asked her what it was, and she said they were photos, Cam’s photos.

My mouth fell open, and Karen said, Cam never told you, did he? And I said, Probably not, no. So what didn’t he tell me this time? I said, and then she told me that Cam always wanted to be a photographer when he was a little boy. She said that he used to take pictures all the time, but his favorite was whenever the three of them, Cam and his mom and dad, would take trips, road trips.

I didn’t know what to say, because he’d never told me that. She just looked at me, and I couldn’t even believe the bags and dark circles under her eyes—it wasn’t Karen I was talking to. But I said no, he’d never said a word and Karen goes, He was shy about telling you, Thea, and I almost flared up for some reason, and she saw it. Believe me or don’t, but I’m telling you, Cam admired you and your talent so much, I think he was afraid you’d think less of him, or maybe even be embarrassed in some way if you didn’t like his photography, she said, this tiny puff of a laugh escaping her lips, looking at the photos.

I couldn’t help smiling when she said that word, afraid. But you know what? That’s bullshit. All the times he pushed me to open up, all the things he said about being brave, taking risks, sharing my work, and he didn’t even tell me he took pictures of his family? I believed him, too. Everything he told me, I believed every word. And do you have any idea the mess he’d made of my life? I was just like, Karen. Did you see all those people, outside, when you walked in here? Some people think Cam’s alive, some people think he’s dead. Same difference, the way everyone looks at me. It’s become a sick joke: the rumors, the videos, the sex tapes, everything. And guess who has to listen, every day, all day? Me, I said: me.

I didn’t say that, but all I could think was how I start and stop letters to him all the time, all day, every day. I kept writing in our sketchbook, drafting e-mails. I typed and erased or I wrote things, crossed them out, scribbled over and over:
Who are you?
That’s the one thing that kept coming back, every time I held a pen in my hand. I kept spacing out and snapping back, realizing I’d scribbled
WHO ARE YOU?
a thousand times. Seriously, seems like I didn’t know anything about him, really. I mean, maybe I knew the person he showed me, but that’s not who he really was, was it? I’m sorry, but the more I learn about him, the more I realize I didn’t know Cam at all.

What can I say? One day, I find out my boyfriend was an aspiring photographer, and he never mentioned any of this to me. Karen even said he won some awards for his photography. Imagine how that feels, hearing that my boyfriend won awards for pictures he took, and it’s all news to me. I mean, I told him things, things I never told anyone, and he didn’t trust me? So when Karen handed me the envelope, she said she wanted me to have it, and I started to look at them, all of Cam’s pictures, and then, when I was done, I just handed them back to her.

Why now? I said. Why are you giving these to me now? She goes, Was there a better time? not taking the envelope. I go, Yes. Yes, there was a better time. Like when Cam was here, when he was—I said, and then I had to catch myself. I mean, I didn’t say it, but I almost did. I almost said,
When he was alive.
She knew, too. Karen knew exactly what I meant, and she goes, Now, because he’d want you to have them. Even if he didn’t tell you, she said. And it hurt, it scared me, like even Karen was giving up on
him. I go, If he’d wanted me to have these, he would’ve shown them to me, himself. Like I did with him, I said, and she started to say something, then she stopped.

It was so awkward for a minute, and then she said, I know you don’t understand, and you’re hurt that he didn’t share these with you, but I think Cam didn’t share these with you because he quit taking pictures. I said, Karen, I don’t know what to say to that, because he never told me any of this, and the expression on her face wasn’t surprise, it was pain. I said, You’re surprised, how much he hid from me? No, she said, her head falling to one side. Not really. Boys have a problem sometimes with these things. I go, Life, you mean? She said, That, too, and for some reason, I felt so angry with her. Maybe because she was all I had to be angry with, and I said, That’s a bullshit excuse. She goes, Maybe, but the fact is, Cam quit taking pictures after he met you because he said he loved the
idea
of taking pictures, but you loved doing it. He said he loved watching you take pictures more than he’d ever loved taking a single shot, she said, smiling at me like that made it better. She goes, You can hold it against him, but he changed a lot, after he met you, Thea.

I stared at the rug, trying to figure out what to say. When did he quit? I asked, trying to understand, but mostly feeling numb. First week of school, after he met you, she said. No, we didn’t meet until the end of the first month of school, I said. I didn’t know him the first week. No, but he knew you, she said, turning away, about to open the door, to leave. There was more to it than she was saying, that’s all I know. That’s how Karen had become since Cam disappeared. Like there was this side of her now, and I
didn’t really know her anymore. She looked at me for a moment, exhaling through her nose, and then she said, Do what you want with them, Thea, but I know Cam would want you to have them, and then she walked out, closing the door behind her.

I went to my room, and I opened the envelope, pulled them all out, on top of my bed. And they’re good—he’s really good. There were some great shots that he must have taken on their drive across country, when they moved here. The last picture, though… the last picture made my heart stop. It was a picture of me, when my hair was still long, just before I got it cut. I knew exactly when and where it was taken: it was the week before school started, and I’d gotten in a fight with my mom, and I’d gone to the park for the afternoon. I was looking at the sky, because this huge storm was coming in, the whole sky was gray, almost as angry as I was, and I remember—. This is so silly, but I remember thinking,
Bring it.
You can’t see my face, just the back of my head, my hair’s blowing everywhere, but I know it’s me, and Cam was right behind me, watching me, even then.