Izzy rolls her eyes. "And I'm just chopped liver with nothing to contribute, huh? Just a crazy little girl who hears voices."
"No, of course not. Granted, I hadn't planned on getting you involved, but I'm certain you can help track them down as well."
"Thanks, doctor, for not sending me back to my Fortress of Solitude." Ha, like Superman. I like this woman, too.
Maiko is curious to hear more about our powers, and how we discovered them, now that we've heard Maddy's origin story. Foley balks at shifting focus away from the suspects, but we all agree that learning more about each other will only help us be more cohesive and help us come up with a plan. He sighs and sits down, listening to how Izzy first dealt with her changes, and how she first came across them while eating lunch with her friend Kate. I recount my tale from trivia night, and Izzy picks up on my description of the fireball I met that night.
"Wait...is this trivia girl Kate Dawson?"
"Yeah, you know her?"
"Sí, she's the friend I was having lunch with when I first started hearing things. We were roommates in college."
Hmm. Interesting coincidence that Kate was around when each of us first experienced our senses evolving. Izzy and I stare at each other, each anticipating the other to further explore this coincidence, each of us pausing just long enough for someone to change the subject.
Maiko relays her experience with her cancer, then the mice. She seems almost ashamed of ever having hurt the little guys, as she calls them, and even more so when she moved onto human subjects. Frank stares at the floor the entire time she describes how he saved her, over and over, at the expense of others. I'm not able to pick up on emotions as well as he can, but he doesn't seem angry about Maiko letting us in on their deepest, darkest secret. He looks ashamed, conflicted. She, on the other hand, seems more pissed off each time she mentions his part in her story.
"It's not what I intended...what we intended. I thought the cancer eating away at me was the worst feeling ever, but it's nothing compared to the guilt. When this is over, I'd love your help to find me a better way."
The room falls silent. Izzy stands up, walks over to Maiko, and throws her arms around her. She speaks for all of us without saying a word. She sits back down, seemingly at peace with the silence, takes a deep breath, and turns to Foley.
"So what's your story, ese? How did you discover what you could do? And why do you deserve this amazing woman?" If Izzy knew half the things I've learned about Foley's career, she'd know why.
Foley finally stops inspecting the floor and looks to Maiko, then to Izzy. "I don't."
Chapter 24
Forty Years Ago
Frank
"Frankie! Vinnie! Dinner!"
Aw, Ma! Come on! This is just getting good. Mary Beth's wearing down. Me and the boys have been teasing her in the treehouse for weeks to get her to take her top off and show us the goods.
"One more minute!" We look eagerly back at Mary Beth, whose fingers are tracing the bottom of her shirt, as though all ten are independently debating with each other as to which way to go. She looks at me, then quickly averts her eyes. I've gone back and forth in my head about a hundred times over the last year, wondering if maybe she likes me, or maybe she doesn't. Sometimes, she's super nice to me. Other times, she treats me like shit or ignores me completely. If this is what women are all about, maybe I should become a priest. Ha! They'd kick my ass out in less than a day, as often as I take the Lord's name in vain.
She bites her lip, looks me in the eyes again, and puts her hands down, shaking her head. "I can't." A chorus of groans roars through the treehouse. Freddie and Vin fall out of their chairs to the floor, feigning heart attacks out of frustration. Bobby and Billy just roll their eyes and go back to reading their comics.
"I knew she was a tease," mumbles Bobby. Her eyes and mine remain locked. She furrows her brow, purses her lips, and turns away towards the ladder.
"Eh, don't listen to them clowns. You wouldn't wanna see their reactions anyway. It'd be like a buncha chimps that just discovered fire or somethin'. There'd be hootin' and hollerin', and someone would probably fling some poo around."
She turns back to me, smiles, and starts heading down out of the tree. "Bye, Frank." Bye Frank. Not bye guys, not bye Bobby or Freddie or Vinnie or Billy. Bye Frank.
"FRANKIE! VINNIE! NOW!" Jesus Christ, Ma, you sure have a way of embarrassing a guy.
"See ya later, alligators. Let's go, Vin, before she starts thrown' fuckin' wooden spoons at us from the window again."
"Not so loud, dummy! She'll hear!" Vin is such a wimp when it comes to Ma. It's Pa he should be afraid of. That's who I always keep an eye on. Terrible timing aside, Ma's a fuckin' angel.
I guess little brothers are supposed to be wimps, but he's not so bad most times. He just gets so scared when Ma yells, and it makes me scared to see him scared. It ain't so bad when she just yells at me and he ain't around. It's like I got some kind of big brother radar, feeding off his fear. It wasn't always like that, but lately...
Well, lately, I've been feeling lots of things. Pa says it's just puberty, and I'll get over it. I sure as hell hope so, cuz last time he snapped at me, I snapped back. I somehow made it through the day alive, but my ass was sore for days from the belt. I don't even know why I did it, I just couldn't help it. We never used to fight at all. If I was bad, I got yelled at or hit, and that was that. Now, I get so angry, it's getting harder and harder to just sit there and take it. It sucks, because one of these days, I'm gonna say the wrong thing, and his foot is gonna get jammed so far up my ass, I'm gonna need to have it surgically removed.
At the dinner table, Ma asks us what we learned at school today. I shrug and talk about the Louisiana Purchase from history class. "Did you know Louisiana was huge back then? It was like, half the country past the Mississippi River."
"I didn't know that. Did you know that, John?"
"Mm-hmm," is all he says. It's all he ever says, showing the least possible interest in our education. He always says we'll just work at the plant like he does when we get older, so what do we need to know about history or politics. Ma always encouraged us to learn more, find our own way. She doesn't want us to be just like Pa. She loves him, but has always wanted more for us. Like I said, a fuckin' angel.
"We learned about Jupiter. Mr. Paradine says we should be sure to watch the Voyager launches this summer, cuz in a few years, they're gonna fly right by Jupiter and take tons of cool pictures of it." Vin, always the space geek. He gets so excited about this junk. "They're gonna have this gold record on it that Carl Sagan put together, with all these recordings of greetings and music from around the world. President Carter even wrote this cool message." He goes on and on about Carter's note, global civilization, and whatnot. My dad half grunts, half laughs.
"I'm sure the aliens will be very interested in our jungle music and gobbledygook from a peanut farmer. Why are they launching the second one first, anyway? Makes no sense."
Vin hangs his head a bit. Pa never notices, but his dismissal of Vin's interest in science has always put a damper on dinner table conversations. Ma and I always notice and try to cheer him up.
"Well, honey, maybe Mr. Paradine will let you write a paper about it for extra credit." Ma to the rescue, again. Vin smiles and we eat silently. When I'm done, she makes me take more lasagna against my will, like every Italian mother does. "Come on, you need some meat on them skinny bones you got. How else you gonna get Mary Beth to notice you?"
"Ma!" It's like, an unwritten rule that parents aren't supposed to talk about girls. Doesn't she know that?
"What? I see her coming around the treehouse more. Your mother's not blind, ya know." Being discreet was never her thing, but at least she has a playful way of being direct. My pa, on the other hand, that one's full of sideways glances and vague comments on the matter. The only time he talks to me about girls is when he's had a few stouts, like a good Irish dad. Of course, when he does get like that, he embarrasses m
e with his bluntness and the level of detail he imparts about female anatomy.
Later that night, while in bed, Vin nudges me. "Hey, Frankie...you really do like Mary Beth, huh?"
I look at him suspiciously. This ain't the kinda shit you normally share with your little brother, either. "Yeah, she's cute, I guess...and nice...and smart...and funny."
"She likes you, too. I can tell."
He can tell? What kinda bullshit is that? Probably just trying to make me feel better, since she wouldn't show us the goods before. "Sure, Vin. Good night."
"No, I mean, I can really tell. When you're near each other, you both smell different." Um...ok, what?
"What the fuck are you talkin' about?"
"It's like when we're in the candy store, and everything smells sweeter."
"That's from all the sugar, stupid." I instantly regret calling him stupid. I didn't mean it, but I can tell it's upset him. I really am an asshole sometimes. "Sorry, bro," is all I can say.
"It's ok." I can tell it's not. He rolls over onto his side, facing away from me. "You smell pretty crappy right now, by the way."
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Later that week, we're at Macy's, and it's all decked out with trees, decorations, mistletoe, wreaths, all that shit. Ma's checking out perfumes. She never does this, mind you, but she and Pa are going to some Christmas party next weekend, and she wants to get all dolled up. Me and Vin ask her if we can go check out something else, anything else, but she says she won't be long, and wants to keep us close.
Before long, Vin starts to turn a little green. "You ok?"
"Nah. All these perfumes are pretty strong. I don't feel so good. I think I'm gonna--BLEHH!" I jump back about ten feet, and he gets it all over the counter. Ma's horrified. The lady behind the counter is concerned for Vin, as are a few of the other customers. Some of them, though, are disgusted, and walk away bitterly. I don't know how I picked up on all this I can still see pieces of undigested licorice in the puddle he left.
A manager comes over and quickly offers to take us into his office, and Ma apologizes profusely. He waves it off, more interested in getting the counter cleaned and getting us out of there so business can return to normal.
He lets us sit in his office for as long as we need, and asks if Ma wants him to call a doctor. Vin is feeling a little better, but still looks a bit woozy, so she calls our pediatrician. He's not in the office today, but someone else there can see us.
In the car ride over, I think about what just happened. He couldn’t have gotten sick from any food he ate today, because we all had the same breakfast and lunch, and we shared the licorice. The perfumes didn't smell that strong to me, but they really bothered him, so maybe that’s what made him blow chunks. I think of other times he’s seemed put off by strong smells that none of us picked up on. He loves candy, but most candy stores are too sweet for him to stay in very long. He says Aunt Erin has really bad breath, but she always seems fine to me. And whenever we go into the city, all he smells is the urine. We do smell that here and there, but not as much as he does, apparently. We usually just make fun of him and call him a bloodhound, or Pa tells him to stop making shit up.
When Vin and Ma explain it all to the new doc, he looks over Vin's records and asks him some odd questions, like whether certain foods taste funny sometimes. What does smell have to do with taste? I can tell the doctor's making Vin nervous, and Ma a little, too, though she's too worried about him to let it bother her.
After a few more questions, the doc tells her he thinks Vin has something called hyperosmia. I swear, the names they come up with for shit sometimes. He wants to make a follow up appointment for some tests. Ma asks if our regular doctor is gonna be performing them, and he looks almost offended. "No. It's not an area Dr. Norris is as familiar with. I'll be administering the tests. You were lucky today, Mrs. Foley. I'm one of the leading researchers in the field of olfactory disorders. Vincent will be in good hands with me. Don't you worry." He's hiding something, I feel like. Or maybe I prefer Dr. Norris, and I'm just being paranoid.
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Weeks later, after the first round of tests, Doctor Jennings assured Ma that Vin could be cured. She was ecstatic, since he'd thrown up a few more times since then, in public, and had become stressed out and distracted at school, to the point where he even failed a science test. That's when Ma and even Pa really started freaking out.
Then it became a routine. Ma'd bring Vin to the doctor once a week for the next few months, and it seemed to be helping. Doc tried to explain what he was doing, but it was over our heads, and Vin would get flustered any time we asked him about it. Something about that always nagged at me, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
One night, he was especially distant at the dinner table. "Hey, your mother's talking at you. Do you want some more spaghetti or what?" Vin snapped out of whatever trance he was in and politely declined. I made it a point that night to try to break through to him. It'd been awhile since we had one of our bedtime chats. They used to consist mostly of dick and fart jokes, but more recently, they turned more serious, until they stopped completely, like we were both growing up way too fast.
"What's with you, little bro?" I asked. Open-ended and friendly was the first tactic I was gonna try.
"Whaddaya mean?" Vin never played dumb. I'd have to try harder.
"That doc, he got you doing anything you don't like? I can kick his ass for ya if you want." This at least got a chuckle.
"Nah, he's nice, usually. It's just..." I could sense he had a ton to let loose, but he struggled with whether to burden me with it. His body language read like an open book, but his pie hole wouldn't say why he was feeling this way. We'd never kept secrets before. It was time to change tactics.
"Vin, look. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I won't say anything to ma or pa, or anyone else you don't want me to. Trust me. I'm your big brother, I got your back. I love ya."
He looked over at me. I figured I'd finally connected. "You...you do?"
"Yeah, how many little brothers you think I got?"
He rolled over and threw his arms around me. We were never the affectionate types, at least not with each other. Hugs say a thousand words we can't express. It was worse than I thought. Vin was in real trouble.
"Thanks, Frankie. I'm good." I wished that were true, but I felt the panic in him, somehow. I should've kept digging right there, that night. But for some reason, I hesitated. I let it be. I didn't know it would be the last night we'd ever share a bed. I had no idea that the next morning would be the last time I'd ever see my little brother.
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The next day, after school, I waited for him at our usual spot. After five minutes, I started checking the usual places where he'd dilly-dally. I found some of his friends, and they said they hadn't seen him that afternoon, and he'd skipped all his classes after lunch. They'd seen him in the cafeteria, said he was gonna run across the street to the store and grab a snack. No one had seen him since.
I sprinted over to Two Brothers, the corner store across the street from school that we frequented. Mo and Jerry ran the place, and treated us like their grandsons. Nice guys. "Ah, Frankie, how you doin'? Where's Vinnie?"
"You seen Vinnie at lunchtime, or after?"
They picked up on the panic in my voice. "Nah, just this morning, with you. Everything ok?" Shit, so he left school, but never made it here. What the fuck?
"I don't know where he is. If you see him, call my house." I gave them our number and ran outta there. I checked every nook and cranny of the school, frantically, knowing somehow that he wasn't there. I even checked the nurse's and principal's office, in case he got hurt, or did something stupid. No one had seen him.
"People don't just disappear from school! There ain't no black holes here, right?"
Mr. Paradine just stared at me, trying to mask how much of an idiot he thought I was. "That's not how black holes work, Frankie. He didn't show up to my class today, so I thought he might be sick. But yo
u say he came with you this morning?" I assured him that he did, and he looked a little worried. "He's been a bit detached lately in class, even failed his last few tests. Has he seemed off to you lately?"
"Yeah, he's had this thing, with his nose, like strong smells been bothering him. He's been seeing a doctor, was getting better, it seemed, but lately..."
"Interesting. He probably just got sick and went home, then." I explained that the nurse didn't send him home, and hadn't seen him, but Mr. Paradine guessed he had just left on his own. He suggested I go home and check before panicking. "Vinnie's a good kid. I'm sure he's fine."
Except that he wasn't. When I got home, Ma asked where he was, so I had to explain what I knew, or more accurately, what I didn't know. She freaked, of course, and immediately called the police, then the school, then the police again. From the half of the conversation I could hear, the cops weren't taking it as seriously as we were.
"I can't wait three days to file a missing person report. He's ten! No, he didn't run away! He's a good boy!" Run away? Never, not in a hundred million years. But that did give me an idea. "Frankie! Where you going?!" Ma called out to me as I ran out of the house.
"I'll be right back! Gonna check a few places!" I couldn't hear what she yelled back to me. I was already halfway to the treehouse. How could I be so stupid to not check there first? Something happened at school, I thought, so he would be hiding out there.
No luck. Freddie and Bobby were already there, though, rooting through my X-Men comic collection. When I told them about Vin missing, they sprang into action. We hopped on our bikes and scoured the neighborhood. Where else would Vin hide? There weren't many spots, so it didn't take long. He wasn't in the abandoned tugboat at the marina we frequented, or on the concrete block hidden in the brush beside it, which we always affectionately referred to as "The Block."
The Ripper of Blossom Valley Page 25