How We Learned to Lie

by Meredith Miller

  “Just a minute,” I shouted at her. “I’m untwisting.”

  By the time I got the phone to my ear it burned me with cold.

  “Robbie got in a fight at work,” she said.

  “At the Lagoon? See? Told you he wasn’t as nice as he seems.”

  “No, listen. It was like watching a building blow up. All of a sudden, furniture was flying around and all the air heated up. There was blood all over the floor.”

  “Crap. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I called to say you were right.”

  “It happens sometimes. Glad you figured it out, though. You seem cool.”

  “I mean, it wasn’t what you thought, but he tried to get me to do hard stuff. So I’d keep buying it off him. So I’d owe him money.”

  “Please tell me somebody put him in the hospital.”

  “He drove away.”

  “He lives in a house with my best friend and his mom, Teresa. What should I do?”

  “Talk to him. Your friend, I mean.”

  “I tried. It doesn’t work anymore.”

  “Want to meet me at the mall?” she said. “We can ride the escalator the wrong way.”

  “I probably won’t be able to go anywhere now until after Christmas.”

  “Say what you mean, Joan Harris.”

  “I kind of like one of my teachers. I think my mom and dad might break up. My best friend is lying to me. All the time. And seriously, it’s gonna be family stuff from now until after Christmas.”

  “Wow. Nothing that interesting happens to me. Just the whole dealers-trying-to-kill-each-other-in-the-strip-joint-where-I-work thing.”

  “Fuck off. How about the day school starts? Meet me at twelve.”

  “I can’t cut school,” Teresa said. “They’ll call here. Meet me the Saturday before.”

  “Fine.”

  “I’ll wear my hat, so you can spot me.”

  “Right. I’ll be the one with the security guard following me around.”

  She hung up and I sat down with my back against the railing and my cold coffee in my hands, holding the phone against my shoulder. I needed to talk to someone. Should I try my dad?

  When I read my mother’s notebook, I hardly recognized the person who I knew must be my father. The guy who wore those shoes he keeps in the closet. The guy who called her a queen and was studying political science. What the hell happened to them?

  The phone sounded one long beep in my ear, then changed pitch and screeched. I had to go inside to get a dial tone back so I could call Daisy’s number.

  “I’m coming over, Daisy.”

  “Cool. No one’s home but me. Hurry up.”

  “You’re going to tell me the truth. Tonight.”

  Silence. Not even any sound on the line.

  “No one even likes me hanging out with you,” I said. “Your brother’s a menace, and you commit felonies in phone booths on a daily basis, but you are my best friend. That only works if you tell me everything.”

  “Okay, Joan. Okay.”

  But those were just words. From where Daisy was, I was just a voice. My words traveled across the road and up the hill to his kitchen through the wires. But all the things I wasn’t saying stayed right there with me. I hung up.

  After the house went quiet, I climbed out the window and up the hill, thinking me and Daisy would watch TV with the sound turned down until the color bars came on. Daisy would tell me everything and then we’d go up and sit in the attic window. I’d show him the notebook and explain about my parents, and this time he’d get it. Daisy would help me fit Nick Tomaszewski and my dead uncle and my father’s sad eyes into the world. We’d breathe out and let ourselves go. Daisy would talk on and on about the phone system and the English exam.

  None of that happened. That fantasy didn’t even make it all the way across the road.

  At the bottom of the driveway I saw Robbie’s yellow Charger, and suddenly I knew the answer was in there. I just climbed in. It wasn’t until I was lying on the floor in the back with Andre’s duffle coat over me that I even thought about what I was doing. I was going to get the truth and bring it back so Daisy couldn’t deny it anymore. We could tell people what Robbie was up to. He’d stop or go away, and everything would be fine again.

  I hadn’t thought about the interior light. It seemed to take five minutes to go off and I lay there imagining what I would say when Robbie stuck his head in and went, “Uh, Joan, why are you on the floor of my car, man?”

  Then I heard Daisy.

  “Robbie, listen to me. This isn’t a good idea.” His voice was high-pitched and choking.

  “You’re all good, man. It’ll be fine. I’ll probably be home before you wake up.”

  “I’m asking you, please, Robbie. What do I tell Mom if something happens to you?”

  So there I was on the floor of Robbie’s car when I realized there was a reason Daisy needed me. When I realized that mattered. According to Teresa, Robbie had already practically killed somebody that night. Whatever he was up to was killing Daisy, too. I’d heard it in his voice. Inside Daisy was a life as big as the ocean, and I’d been looking at it with a microscope. It was like trying to open the sky with a scalpel. There was a whole world of hidden pain in his voice, and all I’d been thinking about was the facts.

  Then Robbie opened the car door, and it was too late for me to get up and say anything. I stared up at the roof of the car and out at the tops of the McNamaras’ pine trees. If he’d looked in the back he would have seen me, but he was Robbie, so he didn’t.

  Daisy yelled “please” one more time while Robbie made a hairpin turn and headed out onto Jensen Road. I had to hang on to the back of the passenger seat to keep from rolling all over the place. We didn’t go far at first. Robbie pulled into the Narragansett parking lot and opened the glove compartment. I looked up at the sign that said “Crabs. Stuffed clams. Beer on tap,” listening to the sound of his razor blade clicking on mirror glass. When we pulled out again, he went through his gears so fast I rolled up against the back seat and came uncovered. He put Pink Floyd on the tape deck and I breathed out, pulling the coat back over me.

  He went across 25A and parked in front of a house on Meadowlark Road. He was in there so long I sat up and rolled down the back window to smoke a cigarette. It wasn’t until later that I thought what would have happened if anyone over there caught me. By the time I had the sense to be scared the whole thing was almost over.

  I sat on the floor of the car with my knees folded up, trying not to think of the sound of Daisy’s voice. I thought about Teresa and her floppy hat. My father’s shoes and my mother’s photograph. I tried to think of smart things to say to Mr. Tomaszewski about Aristotle and his cuttlefish. Did I mention it was freezing? I shook my legs every once in a while to keep the blood flowing. I thought about my mother’s brother. What did he look like? When did they hide all the pictures of him? Maybe I’d seen his face in a box in the attic and I didn’t even know it.

  Did Andre know about him? Was I the only one they didn’t trust?

  I don’t know, maybe if I was someone else I would have cried. Okay, maybe I held my eyes open so the tears would circle back down and I could swallow them. But then they burned my throat and made me want to scream at people.

  Anyway, I’d grabbed ahold of one thing out of all the weird confusing things. I was going to follow it until I found out where it led to. Then I was going to fix it.

  Guess how that worked out?

  By the time I heard Robbie saying goodbye on the front porch, it was the middle of the night and my legs were numb. The next place he went was the Stella Maris Chapel. He parked around back where there weren’t any lights. There was no moon and no surf, either. The gulls were asleep, and the partiers at Fiddler’s Cove had gone home. Robbie got out of the car and slammed the door behind him without looking back.

  I counted to fifty before I lifted my head and looked out the driver’s-side window. Into absolutely nothing. I couldn’
t see Robbie or anything else either, except the outline of the chapel that made the darkness darker in between me and the road. I had to hope Robbie was on the other side of that square of blindness when I opened the door. I got out and nearly fell over. My legs were so numb it was like they weren’t even there underneath me. I leaned back against the door and tried to click it shut as quietly as I could so the light would go off.

  I made for the chapel and felt my way around it. My legs came back full of stinging pain, but I ignored that. When I looked around the corner of the building I saw Robbie in the street light, crossing the road into the Fiddler’s Cove parking lot. He wasn’t going to the beach, though. He went back into the marsh and disappeared. I went along the road behind the trees so I wouldn’t show up in the street light. There were two lights by the showers that stayed on all night, but they only fell halfway across the parking lot before the shadows took over.

  Robbie was suddenly nowhere. I wanted to curse out loud and break one of the streetlights, but instead I slid down against a tree and stared at nothing while all the implications of what I’d been doing hit me. I stretched my legs out and moved my toes. The blood rushed back down and burned my skin. After a while the pins and needles stopped, but by that time my ass was frozen. I strained my eyes trying to see my cold breath in the dark, but it didn’t seem to be there.

  He’d gotten away from me again. I couldn’t wander through the marsh looking for him without a flashlight, and if I had a flashlight he’d see me.

  I was going to have to walk home. It was three miles away and three o’clock in the morning and I didn’t even have to wonder which cops were on the night shift. Not with my luck. If I tried to go the whole way off the road, I’d be filthy and late for breakfast by the time I got anywhere near Jensen Road. One more time, I wished I had my scalpel.

  Just as I gave up and pushed myself up against the tree at my back a car pulled in, a green Mustang with two guys in it. They drove over to the dark side of the parking lot and right to the edge of the asphalt, then turned on their lights and shined them out onto the water. Everything outside that pathway of light went dark and I heard Robbie stumble and curse under his breath. He hadn’t gone into the marsh at all. He was about twenty feet from me and I thought any minute he was going to say, “Joan Harris, what the fuck!” Pull me out and send me home or back to his car.

  He didn’t say anything, though, and I’ll never know if that was because he didn’t notice me or because he didn’t want those other guys to know we were there. We stood right near each other on the edge of the marsh, watching those beams of light and the little ripples the wind was making on the water. And I guess those were the last fifteen minutes Robbie McNamara spent near anybody who knew him or cared. I don’t know.

  I got distracted looking for Daisy’s boat in the stars and didn’t notice when a real boat pulled up and idled just at the edge of those headlights. The two guys got out of the Mustang, and one of them walked right past us, heading to the parking lot entrance. He stood looking down the road, and Robbie strode past me swinging something heavy in one hand. That was when I noticed he wasn’t moving too good. He held his other hand against him like it was useless. I realized he must have driven all that way one-handed. Also, he was barefoot. There was frost on the grass and that crazy junkie wasn’t even wearing socks. He snuck up from behind and swung once at the lookout’s head. Robbie was tall and it was lucky hit. The air whooshed out of the guy and he crumpled down without making a sound.

  Well, I was right. And wrong. Robbie was a lot scarier than anybody thought, or a lot more desperate. Daisy knew already, and he was hiding it from me. He thought I needed to be protected. Daisy. Me. Everything was upside down in ways I hadn’t even dreamed of.

  Robbie left the lookout lying on the pavement and circled through the shadows at the edge of the parking lot. He passed within five feet of me. Three steps would have put me in his path. I could have reached out a hand and stopped him, but I just leaned against that tree and held my breath.

  The trunk of the Mustang was open, and the other guy was helping unload stuff from the boat. He waded back with his arms full of something wrapped in blue tarp and the boat started its engine and turned back out into the Sound. It was gone before he even got back to the car. I was still watching the water when the boat’s light went on and started shrinking toward Connecticut. I guess Robbie swung at the other guy and missed because I heard the shout and looked back in time to see the guy grab on to Robbie’s bandaged arm. The lookout came cursing and stumbling across the parking lot.

  They threw Robbie against the car and started talking to him in loud whispers I couldn’t make out. He yelled once when they twisted his bad arm again and they told him to shut up. Those were the only words I heard.

  The lookout punched Robbie so hard I heard the roof of the car buckle when his head hit it. Then he threw him across the back seat while the other guy took his waders off. They slammed the door on him and drove away so fast I was looking at their taillights before I was done wondering how much damage that punch would do. One minute after Robbie’s head bounced off the roof of that Mustang I was standing in the dark by myself. I needed to get to Daisy, but I was pretty sure the keys to Robbie’s car were still in his pocket.

  It did take me almost three hours to cut through all the woods and backyards between Fiddler’s Cove and Jensen Road. I had plenty of time to think, and it wasn’t about my mother or Nick Tomaszewski. That scene at the beach washed through me like turpentine, burning all the confusion away. The scale of what mattered and what didn’t and how much there was to hide had brand-new proportions.

  The way I figured it, there were three possibilities. Either Robbie was already dead, or he’d have to wise up, or he’d run away. Any one of those would make life better for Daisy and his mom. But I wasn’t wishing for any of it. I swear.

  I felt like I’d tried to shove a bully out of the way and they’d stumbled in front of a moving truck. How could I tell Daisy?

  I’d found out everything I needed to know, but none of it mattered. Robbie McNamara’s life was just blood and blunt instruments and need. When you open a dogfish you see a mess of guts; when you open up a person like Robbie you see selfish blindness and meaningless violence. People call guys like him animals but they’re not. Animals only kill each other when they’re hungry.

  When I got home, I went back in my window and straight to Andre’s room. He opened his eyes when I bounced onto the edge of the bed.

  “Wake up. Now.”

  He looked at the wall and then pulled his blanket over his head.

  “Joan, what the fuck?”

  “Get up, Andre. I want the truth and I’m not leaving you alone until I get it.”

  “Puberty is turning you crazy. You get that, right?”

  “Why were you in Robbie McNamara’s car?”

  “What the hell are you talking about? I’ve haven’t even seen the guy since October.”

  “You were in his car, back before school started. Twice. You told me he just happened to see you and give you a ride home. That’s bullshit, Andre. Tell me the real reason or I’ll tell Dad you like boys.”

  “You need permanent Valium, you know that?” Andre sat up and hugged his knees. “Will you at least get me some water?”

  “No.”

  “Jesus! He wanted me to sell shit for him. And by the way, I did just happen to run into him and he did offer me a ride home. Not everyone is lying all the time, Joan.”

  “Yes, they are, and you know it. Did you know Mom had a brother?”

  “What? Will you stop tripping?” He looked at his alarm clock. “It’s six thirty!”

  “Why would Robbie ask you to sell his shit, Andre? You won’t even take aspirin.”

  “Aspirin is bad for you. And I’m the only black kid in the entire senior class. Do you have any idea how many times a day kids ask me for weed?”

  “Robbie wanted you to sell his weed?”

  “Not we
ed. Forget about it, Joan. You should stay away from the McNamaras. I know Daisy is your soul mate or whatever, but Robbie is not cool. Seriously.”

  “Daisy is not my soul mate. He’s my best friend and I need to know what kind of shit is going on in his house. What was it?”

  “Angel dust. He must have found somebody to move it because it’s everywhere at school. Kids are smoking that shit before class. Can you imagine?”

  “Not really. And Mom did have a brother. He died. Ask her, since you’re best friends.”

  I ran out of breath and ground to a halt. There was nothing more to find out.

  “Please get out now,” Andre said. “I have twenty minutes before I have to get up for work.” He slid down and pulled the blankets back over his head.

  When it got dark again I went and looked over at the McNamaras’ driveway, hoping to see Robbie’s car and hoping not to. I stood staring at their front door, feeling numb. There was either too much going on or not enough, but I couldn’t make myself feel it either way. The next day was my birthday, and turning sixteen didn’t matter at all.

  Joan

  MY MOTHER WAS home, and she wasn’t even mad at me for going to the city. Gramps made me a cake and sang “Sixteen Candles” and everyone laughed. Arthur stood by the light switch while Mom lit the candles, and then the room went dark, candlelight in everyone’s sparkling eyes. I can almost see it in the train window now. If I unfocus my eyes I can feel my way back to that kitchen full of people trying so hard. Full of secrets and lies and a whole other kind of light.

  All the time, I felt like Robbie was on the edge of the circle of candlelight, just outside, bleeding and struggling for breath.

  It was carrot cake, because that’s my favorite. We played Scrabble at the table. Except Andre because obviously his new pipe-leg jeans had made him too cool for board games. He stood by the wall saying, “That’s not a word,” and “Normal people don’t do this on their sixteenth birthday.” I knew what I was doing, though. Mr. Tomaszewski said he’d meet me at the Narragansett at eleven. I just wanted to climb into his Deux Chevaux, where nobody knew anything about angel dust or missing kids or the McNamaras. I wanted to talk to him about cnidarians and echinoderms and anything else that didn’t have a brain.