Authors: Courtney Eldridge
I looked at him, Knox, and swear to God, I felt so dizzy for a second, I reached out, and then I fainted. I mean, I always thought it was bullshit, like who really faints? But it’s real—seriously, the whole room started spinning, and I felt my legs giving, and then I blacked out. Knox reached over and caught me just in time, and he goes, Hey, hey, Thea? Thea? holding on, making sure I was all right, while I got my legs back under me. It was only a second, though, then I stepped away, nodding that I was fine.
Right then, the bedroom door opened, and a woman walked in: There you two are! she said. At first, she was smiling, and then, looking at us, Knox holding my arm, Melody twisted in her chair. And her eyes kept moving from me, to Melody, to Knox, and back again. The woman didn’t say anything, but she gives me this look like, Who the hell are you and what the fuck are you doing in my house? Then she goes, Oh, hello, I’m Heather—it’s Knox’s wife, right?—and I wiped my nose on my sleeve, trying to smile, and I said, Hi, I’m Thea. And she goes, Oh.
Thea…
of course! How nice to meet you.
She’s being perfectly nice, but right away, I can tell she doesn’t like me at all, and me, I’m just like, Of course what? So I tried smiling, but I was as obvious as she was, and I had to look away, smiling at Melody. His wife, Heather, she’s really pretty, and you can totally see the resemblance, too, but she’s got
strawberry blonde hair and freckles. They have the same eyes, though, Melody and Heather—they have the same blue eyes. God, talk about awkward; Heather smiling at Knox, waiting for some explanation, then Knox goes, I was driving Thea home when Shelley called. Guess Dylan stuck a box of raisins up his nose, and Heather goes, A whole box? I almost started laughing, because it was the same question I asked, you know, but I didn’t want to have anything to do with her. We don’t know yet, he said, and she turns to me and goes, I’m so sorry I couldn’t leave work, Thea, and I said, It’s fine. He was just telling me Melody’s birthday is coming up. When is it? I said, and Heather smiled, stepping between us—almost like she wanted to get me away from Melody, I could tell. But Melody goes,
June 16
, and I go, June 16? That’s my birthday! Melody goes,
It is?!
And I almost said yes, but I caught myself, and I just nodded. It was really nice meeting Melody, I said, seeing the shock on Heather’s face, then she looked at Knox, like,
WTF?
Nice meeting you, Thea, she said, ushering us toward the door, and I go, You, too, and I walked out, hearing Melody calling to me,
Bye!
So Knox pulls out, and we drive a few blocks, not a word, no communication. We made it to the highway, and then a light went on, on his dash, and he said, I need to get some gas, and I didn’t say anything. So we pulled into the first station on the highway, and he got out, and I sat there, turning in my seat. I could still hear her voice in my head, Melody’s voice. I could still hear her begging me not to leave, that she was in there, right there—I know what I heard. Knox got in, but he couldn’t even look at me. Look, I said, I don’t care if you believe me or not,
but why would I tell you something so crazy? You think I
asked
for this? And my ears are still ringing, just so you know, I said, plugging one ear with my middle finger. I mean, seriously, Knox, and then I just looked out my window, never mind. So let me… I’m trying to—let me just, he said, struggling, covering his mouth with his left hand. Did you, do you have to look at her to hear her? No, I said. I don’t think so—no more than I’d have to look at you to hear you talking.
Finally, I go, Is it palsy? Is that what Melody has, palsy? Knox nodded yes, and I said, How long’s she been in a wheelchair? And he puffed up his cheeks, thinking about it, then he said, Twelve years. She’s never talked? I said, and he started to answer, then he just shook his head no, staring straight ahead. I said, You don’t believe me, do you? He didn’t answer—for like a whole minute, he didn’t say anything—then, finally, he goes, I don’t know what to believe anymore, and I go, Yeah, me, neither.
We were just about to pull out on that highway, when Knox said, Thea, look! Look, look, he said, pointing up at the sky. There was a yellow balloon, floating, like it had all the time in the world. Sad kid, he sighed, smacking his gums, like, tough luck. And I thought about it, watching the balloon move through the air, just so proud, so free, you know? Sad kid, but happy balloon, I said.
Knox pulled up to the building, parking below our door, and I said, Thanks for the ride, unbuckling my seat belt, and he said, You’re welcome, and then I got out of the car, but before I closed the door, Knox leaned over and he goes, Thea? I leaned in, and I was just like, Yeah? I could tell he wasn’t sure he should tell me, but then he did. He nodded once, like he couldn’t believe it, and
then he said, I used to sing that to her, when Melody was a baby. That song “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue.” I didn’t know any lullabies, so I sang the songs I knew, and she loved that song—I mean, I think she did, he said. Then I knew what she was saying, why she told me to tell him that. I go, She did love it—you should sing it to her again—she knows all the words, you know? He looked down, not knowing what to say, so I closed the door.
Turning around, I almost jumped out of my skin, because I heard a woman’s voice calling me. Like so many voices, I felt insane—I didn’t know if it was Melody or what, and this woman goes, Excuse me, are you Thea Denny? I turned around, and this woman was standing there, over near the stairs. She was pretty, but in a television-pretty way, with lots of hair spray and heavy makeup and a gray pantsuit. She looked so familiar, too, and then I realized who she was, and no wonder there was something TV about her! Her name’s Jenna Darnell, and she’s one of the reporters from WVOX, out of Albany. She’s the reporter they sent here to do that story about the hole in the barrier on the highway and the tire tracks that stop in the middle of the field.
She smiled, introducing herself, and then she said she was hoping she could ask me a few questions. She said she’d heard about Cam and wondered if his disappearance had anything to do with some of the weird shit that was happening around town—she didn’t say it like that, but that’s what she meant. I looked at Knox for help, and he got out of the car, leaning over his hood. Jenna Darnell looked at him, and you could tell he was going to step in, and then she hands me a card and says, I’m sure this is an incredibly difficult time for you, Thea. But if you ever want to talk about
it, publicly, she said, and I took the card. Thanks, I said, and I looked at Knox. You’re the woman from the news, right? he asked her, and she smiled. Yes, WVOX, and Knox said, Crazy about the wall, isn’t it? She smiled at me, and then she said, Almost like someone ran right into… nowhere, and I shivered, crossing my arms. Huh, Knox said, smiling. That’s one way of putting it. Nice meeting you, he said, letting her know she could leave now.
I should go inside, I said to them both, and Knox nodded, opening his door, and Jenna Darnell headed for a white rental car, parked beside our super’s old truck. I went upstairs, unlocked our door, and went inside, and then I just stood at the window, peeking outside, thinking,
WTF?
I mean, first Melody, and then I literally turn around, and there’s a reporter who wants to talk to me?
I sat down on the couch, folding my arms around my bag, and then I got a text. I checked my phone—my hearts stops every time I hear my phone—but it was only Karen. She asked if I wanted to have dinner at her place, and I texted her right back: How soon is now? I waited at the window, and when Karen pulled in, I ran downstairs and got in, but we didn’t say anything the whole way. Which is something I love about Karen, that you never have to fill the silences, not at all. I was just happy to be with her, because I feel like she’s the only person who really knows what this week has been like.
We got to their house and went inside, and first thing, walking into Cam’s house, without him there, my chest just went oomph! I was like,
Ohmygod, Karen, how did you get through this week, living here?
She saw it, too, the look on my face, but she didn’t say anything. She goes, Dinner’ll be ready in half an
hour; why don’t we go sit outside? So I followed her outside, and it’s a little run-down, their house, but they have a big screened-in porch in the back with a porch swing, and I took a seat.
You know, some nights, doing something as simple as sitting on a porch swing, when the first cricket begins to chirp, getting warmed up for the season, and the air is so clean, it’s almost enough to make you believe people are that clean, too. Of course you know better, but you still give in: you breathe the air; and in that moment, you believe in goodness in your bones. It was chilly, though, so Karen pulled out a blanket and covered me, such a mom, tucking the blanket in along my thighs, before sitting down next to me.
So. How are you holding up, kiddo? she asked, brushing my bangs back with one hand. I don’t know, I said, shrugging. I guess I don’t believe it most days, I said, looking at her: I don’t believe he’s gone, that’s how. Because if I really believed that I’d never see him again, I’d be a total basket case, I said. She nodded, like she understood, and I said, All day long, I think he’s going to text or call or walk through the door, you know? But when he does, I think the first I’ll do is kill him, I said, looking at her, and she smiled. You’ll have to beat me to it, she said, inhaling and then flapping her lips as she exhaled this heavy sigh. Staring off, she started to say something else, but she stopped.
Karen’s beautiful. Like what you imagine some classic California beauty looks like, tall and thin, with ruddy tan skin and a few freckles across her nose, just like Cam’s, and beach-blonde hair, and it took me a while to get used to how pretty she was; it kept surprising me, when I first met her. But now she
looked so tired, or something worse than tired, not haunted, just the opposite. I keep seeing this look in her eyes, almost like she knew what was going on, like she’d been waiting for this moment for such a long time, and finally, here we were.
When he was little, she said, looking over at the garage, Cam had such an ugly temper, and my mouth fell wide open.
Cam?
I said, The guy who barely raises his voice to sing in the shower? Oh,
the worst
, she said, raising her eyebrows, No: demon child. Still, I said, Karen, I’m sorry, but I cannot imagine him with a temper—that wouldn’t be Cam. People change, Thea, she said, turning to look at me, but really looking at me. Like when someone says something that’s a place marker, and then, one day, they’ll finally tell you what the hell they were talking about, what they weren’t telling you at that moment, you know? I don’t know, I just had this feeling it would be a while before she told me what she actually meant by saying that people change.
But then I felt so guilty, like I was hiding something from her, that I just blurted it out. I go, Karen, this reporter showed up at my house this afternoon, then she frowned and she goes, A
reporter?
I nodded, because I couldn’t believe it either, and I said, Right before you texted, then her face relaxed and she goes, Did you speak to him? I go, It was a woman, but no. I mean, I took her card, because she handed it to me, but I didn’t say anything about Cam. Karen nodded, then she patted my thigh, about to stand up, heading to the kitchen, and she goes, I trust you, Thea. You don’t have to ask me for permission: you do what you need to do, all right? Which sounds great, at first, right, but on second thought, I was just like,
You trust me? I’m glad one of us does.
(THREE WEEKS EARLIER)
5:12 PM
It was so stupid, but we got in this huge fight a few weeks ago, after Cam gave me my first driving lesson with a stick. In his car. And maybe I overreacted, but Cam kept snapping at me, like, Do this! Do that! Don’t do that! You’re going too fast! Slow down! Speed up! More gas! Don’t shift so hard! Shift now! Stop riding the clutch, Thea! Thea, you’re riding the clutch! Finally, I stopped and I was just like, I don’t even know what that means, Cam, riding the clutch! But stop yelling at me! I yelled back, and then Cam goes, I’m not yelling, Thee. All I’m saying is slow down or you’re gonna drive through the barrier.
We were in this huge parking lot they’d built on the back side of another strip mall before the money fell through to finish it. Now it’s hidden behind this big plastic barrier they put up along the highway, I don’t know why. Maybe it’s so people can’t see all the failing businesses in town, but there was no one else there,
and on the other side of the parking lot, it’s just this endless field. Anyhow, that’s what he said, that I was driving so fast, I was going to tear a hole in the plastic wall, and that’s when I stopped the car and my mouth fell open, like,
Seriously?
I turned off the ignition, and I go, Cam, what am I going to hit? He goes, Thea, you were headed straight for the wall, and I said, I was headed in that direction, because it’s in front of us. What am I going to run into here, Cam? It’s nowhere, there’s nothing here. You can’t run into
nowhere
, I said, so annoyed, and he tilted his head, raising a brow, saying, I must disagree, because you can most certainly run into nowhere, and I said, Oh, whatever. He goes, Fine, but all I’m saying is that you weren’t following instructions, Thee—. I go, I was trying to follow instructions, Cam, but I have to
learn
, and I can’t learn if you’re yelling at me, and he goes, I wasn’t yelling. I said, Yes, you were. And if I had known you’d get so snippy, I would have told you not to bother trying to teach me how to drive, and Cam goes, Thee, don’t give me that,
you know
I’m a good teacher—in fact, I’m an excellent teacher. I said, When it’s geometry, maybe. And please, I didn’t hurt your stupid car, okay? I knew I shouldn’t have said that, that it was mean of me to call his car stupid, and then, when he didn’t even look at me, he just stared straight ahead and he goes, Yeah, well, I bet my car could pass geometry.
My mouth fell open, because I was just like, you are
such
an asshole for saying that! I couldn’t even believe he made that dig, you know? So I go, You know what, Cam? Here, I said, taking out the keys and tossing them across the seat. Then, opening my door, he goes, Come on, Thee, what are you doing? I said,
My lesson’s over—feel free to teach your car geometry, and I got out and started walking away. It’s at least five miles back to my house, but I was like, screw it, I’d rather walk than talk to him, so I started walking.