Everything in life comes with a price; every joy has a sorrow like a tail at its back. Every victory a trail of blood behind it. We keep getting up, child. As we must.
NINE
THE KIDS
I wake in the night, sure the motion sensor lights flashing on and off mean Lyle is here, scaling the outside wall, slipping through a window, wrapping his hands around my neck until I can’t breathe anymore, even a little. I see the little hairs on his cheeks. I see the bowls of grapes.
He is coming. He’s going to find us. He’ll never leave us alone.
“It’s just animals,” Roxy says. “It’s nothing.”
I hold on to her. She holds on back.
I sleep through the rest of the night and wake to hot sun on my cheek, my stomach angry with hunger, Roxy gone from beside me, loud music climbing the stairs. I wait for the sounds to die down, but they don’t, and my stomach grumbles fiercely, so finally I make myself go down to the kitchen.
Kidd’s wearing a Mister Rogers T-shirt under a black leather vest, a fluffy tutu on the bottom, and she’s eating a donut filled with raspberry jam. She catches sight of me right away and fixes me with a blank, open stare, red jelly at the corner of her mouth.
Jason and Neve are talking closely, but they stop as soon as I come in. Jason doesn’t smile. He looks away. Maybe he knows I was in his stuff last night, that I saw his pictures. Maybe I left something crucial out of place.
“Elle doesn’t allow sweets in the house except on Saturday morning because of the market,” Kidd says. “Mostly it’s bulgur wheat and nutritional yeast.”
“Ay,” Jason says, quietly, “gratitude, Kidd.”
“I know.” She takes another huge bite of donut. “I’m just letting her know to have gratitude while she eats donuts, because they’re only once a week.”
“I keep my own private stash,” I say. “If you’re ever desperate.”
“Her teeth are going to fall out of her head,” Jason snaps. “She doesn’t need any more sugar than she gets.”
I redden and pour myself a cup of coffee. I grab for a donut, but I’ve lost my appetite. I’m about to leave, to take my food upstairs, but Neve stops me.
“Elle took your mom to get a few things. Some essentials you left behind. But…” Neve threads her arm through mine, drawing out the word. She has no idea how strange this is. I’ve watched girls coming together in the playground, deciding on each other so easily. It has never happened to me. “… she left us with strict instructions to take you to the beach. We need to be there—”
“In like an hour,” Jason says. “Kidd was going to wake you up since it seemed like you were going to sleep all day.”
“I was tired,” I say. “It … it was a long drive.”
“Well, let’s go. Chop-chop!” Neve says.
“I don’t even have a suit.” My plan was to stay and organize my toothbrushes, maybe walk around a little with Roxy, perhaps reopen the diary.
Jason watches me for a second, then looks away.
“No worries about the suit,” Neve says. “Santa Maria has about eighteen hundred places that sell swimsuits. Also,” she goes on, “every kind of flip-flop imaginable, jellies, and every single thing you could ever think of with the words ‘Santa Maria’ printed on it. ‘Best beach town in America,’ don’tcha know.” Neve corkscrews her fingers into the place where dimples should be and gives me a fake smile.
“I saw that on the sign, coming into town.” There were mermaids welcoming us to Santa Maria, the caption between their welcoming naked torsos.
“Of course, no one mentions the other part,” Jason says, darkly.
“What other part?” I sit at the table, interested.
“Leave her alone.” Neve flops down beside me, grabs hold of a mug of coffee. “Ignore him. We call him the Awfulizer.”
“Santa Maria has the most murders per capita in the whole country,” Jason deadpans, popping a cinnamon donut into his mouth. “Most drug-related deaths. Most missing people.”
I glance out the window at the bursting colors, the clean green, the fruit popping off the trees. “Seriously? Here?”
Neve nods. “It’s an anomaly. Elle says it’s because we’re on a psychic vortex.”
I would question what a psychic vortex is, but considering the books on the shelves and the crystals dangling from the ceiling, I let it go. Still, I half expect chairs to slide across the floor of their own accord.
“So why stay if it’s such a scary place?” I ask, when all the furniture doesn’t levitate.
Pain flickers across Jason’s face, so quickly I might not have seen it happen, and then it all shuts down and he goes back to neutral and studies his plate.
“Because as far as earth goes, this is the best I’ve found,” Neve says. “At least it’s honest.”
“Why would you come back?” Jason asks. “Maybe that’s the better question.”
“I always wanted to live here.” I take a bite, lick powdered sugar from the corners of my mouth. “Even if it’s a psychic vortex. Anyway, anything’s better than Taylor.”
“That’s where you came from?” Neve asks, leaning over the table so I catch a glimpse of an elaborate silver vial between her breasts. It’s beautifully engraved and looks ancient.
I nod.
“What’s it like there?”
I think about it, aside from Lyle and Grandmother. There are good parts. “Cowboy boots and church and really perfect makeup and hair so big ferrets could live in it.”
“Sounds kinda sexy,” Neve says.
Jason makes a disgusted noise.
“What?” she says. “I like big hair. And I bet you didn’t know I can two-step.” She slides across the room with her thumbs hooked in her belt loop, then sways her hips and winks.
“The secret life of Neve,” Jason says. “Where did you learn that?”
“Street Skills 101.” She settles herself back at the table and holds her mug, blowing on the steaming coffee.
“Don’t worry about Santa Maria. It’s scary sometimes, but no one messes with us,” Kidd says, and now I see she has the same vial as Neve, only hers looks like a bullet hanging from a chain. “And we never leave. We wouldn’t.”
We never much left Taylor, but there’s something about the way she says it that’s so … final.
“They do not mess with us,” Neve murmurs, almost to herself. “For good reason.”
Kidd laughs softly and plays with her necklace. “So stick with Neve,” she says. “Right?”
Jason looks around the table, shakes his head, gets up, and stalks out. The screen door slams behind him.
“Awfulizer,” Neve says, pointing at the place Jason has just gone. Then she turns back to me and wrinkles her nose, looking me up and down. “You’re not going to the beach in that, are you?”
I look down at the worn Peanuts sleep shirt I pulled out of Roxy’s closet and cross my arms over Snoopy’s doghouse.
Neve takes another bite of donut, then unscrews her necklace to reveal a tiny atomizer. She sprays something into her mouth and replaces the cap. “Two things: one, we’re supposed to be like sisters, remember? And sisters go to the beach together. And two, it’s fun. What else is there to do? It’s already almost three o’clock. Time’s a’ wastin’.” She maneuvers me toward the stairs. “Totally not staying here. It’s a beautiful day! It’s summer! Santa Maria is cool! Your mom will find you. Trust me, the boardwalk is like two blocks. Plus she’s a grown-up. You are not. Stop acting like one!”
I begin picking up the coffee mugs and dirty plates on the table, taking them to the sink.
“Shit,” she says, “you need to learn how to have fun. Like, really badly. Like stat. Immediately.”
“Okay, okay!” I turn off the sink water. “I’m changing.”
I smile all the way to my new room.
TEN
REMEMBER ME
When Lyle knocked my head against the wall, I expected to shatter. I knew as soon as Roxy
and I walked in that night, there was going to be trouble. The house was wrong. I could practically smell it, and so could Roxy. She grabbed hold of my wrist as soon as we crossed the threshold. The Patsy Cline version of “Crazy” echoed through the house. A bottle of Jack Daniels sat open on the kitchen counter, its top resting at its side. The bottle, which had been new that morning, was half empty. Roxy pointed at it as we searched the dining room, living room, bathroom, even the basement and came up empty. He had to be upstairs.
And I’m crazy for loving you …
There was a thick void as the record spun and crackled, and then the house went silent. Roxy and I stopped moving, breathing. And then she looked up, and that’s when Lyle came.
Terrible things always happen when you aren’t paying attention and you’re just being. Roxy and I had gone to see The Witches of Eastwick. We laughed so hard when those witches got Jack Nicholson at the end. We were in a good mood. Almost happy. At first I thought that was why and that Lyle begrudged us our trip to the movies without him and wanted to punish us for it.
Well.
Lyle tore down the stairs, and this time instead of going for Roxy like he always did, he came straight for me. He had never touched me before, though he’d been plenty aggressive over the years, so I didn’t know what to do. I think he knew if he hurt me, it would really be the end for my mother and him, and that always kept him from doing it, until he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.
He shook me so hard the house vibrated. The hairs on his cheeks blurred, and the perfectly hung painting of grapes in a silver bowl tripled above his head. That ugly thing. He took me by both shoulders and I collided with the wall and, dimly, as the world narrowed to a pinprick of Lyle and me and the wall and the wall and the wall, I thought how it should be different when someone holds your shoulders like that. It should be to keep you steady, not to knock you down.
I wish touch was love, not hate.
Slut. He kept saying it to me. Slut. Slut. Slut.
I kept thinking, What does that even mean?
Slam. Slam. Slam.
His breath hot on my face, him so close.
What did I ever do to you? All I ever did was take care of you and your mama and this is how you repay me? You’re going to the cops? For what? What the hell you going to tell them?
And the pieces wouldn’t connect. I thought, Am I going to die now? Is it going to be over? All of it?
And everything slowed down and I didn’t feel pain anymore and it all got so clear it hurt in a different way. It ached. I gave up. That’s what he had been waiting for. When I went limp, he started in on Roxy.
After Lyle had gone, closing the door gently behind him, when we were hauling ass to get out of there, we figured out what had happened. My room was torn apart, my journal open on the bed, every private thought, every wish, every confession right there, exposed.
He had hurt me and he had hurt Roxy, and I had done nothing to stop him. Again.
ELEVEN
THE BEACH
“Those are the punks.” Neve points to the kids with all different-colored mohawks, bowler hats, piercings, and leather, hanging over the boardwalk railings by the beach. They’re so uninterested in the ocean it’s like they don’t even see it.
It’s a perfect day, warm but not too hot, and we are setting ourselves up.
One thing: sand gets everywhere. It’s not like a pool, where you can keep yourself separate. The beach sucks you in so you’re part of it. The shore in Texas has its charm, in fact it’s stunning in its own Texas way, but it’s different from this. This place has special meaning. My parents met here, and I picture them holding hands and running across the sand, stopping to make out passionately. This beach is my genesis.
“Valley girls over there.” Neve points, oblivious to my epiphany. They’re chewing gum, sunglasses on, eating frozen yogurt or sucking on sodas, lips so shiny I can see them from here.
Jason sets up an umbrella, and I take off my T-shirt and lay out my towel.
“Later, will you bury me?” Kidd asks Jason.
“Yeah,” he says. “Here are your buckets.” He hands her five containers of different shapes and sizes and a shovel.
She gives him a look, one hand hooked on her hip. “I’m nine,” she says. “For God’s sake.”
“Come on,” he says. “Don’t act like you’re too good for sandcastles. We’ll help you.”
“It’s for babies.”
“Not if I’m there, it’s not. We’re going tri-level, girl. We’re going to make the best sandcastle. The whole entire town will be jealous.”
“Okay,” she says. “But you better not ditch me. You better actually do it instead of staring up at the sky and sleeping.”
He pauses from where he’s staking the umbrella. “I would never ditch you, Kidd,” he says.
“Greetings and salutations,” a voice croaks.
I look up to find two boys looming over me, dressed in full fatigues. One has a bandana, the other a beret, and they both look at me so severely I feel like I’m breaking a law being in my new black bikini.
“Hey,” Neve says, as they slap hands and shake with Jason. “Mayhem, meet Eddie and Albert Gecko.”
They’re not twins, exactly. There’s maybe a year between them, but they look nearly identical aside from their headwear, and the fact that the one in the beret, Eddie, has lighter hair than the other, Albert, and a slightly more upturned nose.
“Boardwalk security,” Eddie says.
“Nice to meet you,” I say. “Mayhem.”
They both fold their arms across their chests.
“Welcome to Santa Maria,” Albert says, unwelcomingly.
“Thank you.”
They continue to stare down at me.
“It’s our duty to inform the citizenry of certain pertinent facts about Santa Maria. By our count, five females have disappeared from Santa Maria in the last six months. The dipshit cops in town haven’t put it together yet, but we believe it to be the work of one person. One non-occult person. As you know, the vampires in town prefer to prey on vagrants and small children,” Eddie says.
“Vampires?” I say.
“Yes, vampires. Whether you realize it or not, ma’am, this town is a hotbed of paranormal activity,” the other brother, Albert, says. “And there are certain factions we are no longer willing to tolerate. We’re keeping you safe, doing the job the”—he makes air quotes—“real police force doesn’t have the balls for.”
I smile, but then quickly realize from their expressionless eyes, that’s not the response they’re looking for.
“You’re new to the beach,” Eddie says, flipping open a small blue spiral notebook, “so I’m going to have to ask you the purpose of your visit.”
“Are you serious?” I say.
Neve grins from the side.
“Dead serious, ma’am.” Albert makes a dead-serious face. “You do realize there are dangerous things happening. The beach is under attack.”
Another glance at all the different groups hanging around and I realize people aren’t as laid-back as they look. They’re looking around. They’re paying attention. They’re nervous.
“Hey. This is Mayhem Brayburn,” Neve says. “So check yourself. She’s Santa Maria royalty, my friends. She is definitely not a threat you would object to.”
They both nod and exchange a look.
Eddie scribbles something, then clucks, looking at his brother. “Another Brayburn. Interesting timing.”
“Length of stay?” Albert asks.
“Forever,” Neve says, “if we’re lucky. Mayhem is home now.”
“Mmmhmm, home,” Eddie says. “In that case, we have rules, and we require you be informed.”
“Knowledge is power,” Albert says.
Now I do laugh, and they both look up at me, then back down at what must be some sort of list.
“One, no slaughtering innocent civilians,” Eddie reads, making sure I’m listening. “You’re more than we
lcome to have at the psychos. In fact, we would prefer not to have to investigate the man who’s taking the girls. If you would handle that, we’d be grateful.”
“Yeah, we’ll get right on that,” Neve says. I can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic.
“Two,” Albert says, “no consorting with vampires. We don’t need them feeling welcome, you know what I’m saying? Also, we ask that you leave them to us. We really enjoy a good staking, and we don’t want to have to compete with you for our slice of the pie.”
“And three,” Eddie says, “no going weird. As a contributor to the town’s, shall we say, unusual proclivities, we ask that you maintain your stance on the side of goodness and righteousness to serve our common goal. And if you don’t…” He makes a slicing motion across his throat.
“Respect for your family business aside, since you’re new, we’ll be watching you.” Albert takes two fingers, points them at his eyes, then back at me.
“Family business?” I venture.
“Seriously?” Neve pulls her sunglasses down. “You’re going to start bossing Brayburns around?”
Eddie raises his arms defensively. “We’re not trying to start trouble, we’re just saying we do our thing and you do yours. No one steps on anyone else’s toes and we have no beef.”
“But if you do…,” Albert says.
“Nothing personal,” Eddie says.
“Just letting her know how we do things around here.”
“Fair enough. Message received. Now on your way, boys.” Neve brings her hands to prayer at her chest and bows her head. “And we thank you for your service.”
“Always looking out for the great citizens of Santa Maria,” Eddie says. They nod curtly and in unison, and then continue down the beach.
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