The Secrets We Keep

by Deb Loughead

  Behind us the washroom door slams open.

  “Jeez, Clem, you didn’t come back, then I heard someone say they saw Banquo’s ghost walk by, so I started checking all the …” Jake stares at us. “What just happened? I have a feeling I missed something.”

  “I have a feeling we both missed something,” I say, still glaring at them. “Okay, so what did Mac do? What was it?” I’m afraid to hear, but I need to know.

  Jake comes over to me and wraps me in his arms, pulling me against his chest so we’re both facing Mac and Ellie. It’s so good, so comforting, to lean into him like that.

  “Tell them, Ellie,” Mac says in an almost gentle voice. “How it really happened that night.”

  Ellie lets go of Mac, then heads to the sink and starts splashing cold water on her face. Again with the raccoon eyes.

  “You know how stubborn Kit can be. So Mac started sort of shoving him, telling him to get lost, but he wouldn’t. So Mac told me to just give him my watch. But I didn’t want to because my Nana gave it to me, and I was afraid he might lose it.”

  I close my eyes and wait for the rest.

  “And that’s when he did it. Mac grabbed my wrist and pulled off the watch. You know how the strap is elastic. And then he just threw it. Kit totally freaked. He started yelling ‘Now Ellie’s watch is lost,’ and saying that he had to go find it.”

  “He went ballistic,” Mac explains in a thick voice. “Actually started trying to punch me. So I shoved him, and he went stomping off into the dark. I tried to find him but I couldn’t. And I swear I had no clue he went over the edge.” One huge tear slides down his cheek.

  “I should have just given him my watch. It’s totally my fault that he died.” Ellie pounds her fist on the wall.

  “But Mac’s the one who threw the watch. So it’s his fault, too,” I tell her.

  “But it wouldn’t be, if I’d given Kit the watch first! Don’t you get that, Clem? And Mac doesn’t want anyone to ever find out about all this. But it’s killing me. I had to tell somebody!”

  Mac’s face is ashen. “I’ve been freaking out for four months, worrying about that stupid watch and about the truth coming out. My mom wants me to see someone about my bad attitude, as she calls it. My dad won’t even talk to me anymore.”

  “Mac’s folks have no clue why he’s been in such a lousy mood for so long,” Ellie says. “And neither does my mom. But I’m too afraid to talk about it, because it’s just so awful.”

  “Same with me,” Mac says. “That watch has been haunting us. Everything has. We can’t get past it. We can’t stop thinking about it or talking about it. And we don’t know what to do.”

  “Wow, déjà vu all over again,” Jake whispers, then hugs me even closer.

  Mac scrubs his head with his fingertips. Ellie watches him with what might almost be regret. And maybe even a touch of warmth. Then she looks at Jake and me as tears well in her eyes again.

  “The very worst part of all is that the whole thing was both our faults. We’re both to blame for what happened to Kit. Neither of us actually pushed him over the edge, but I keep telling Mac that in a way, we both did. We’re both responsible. We’re both murderers, Clems!” Then she buries her face in Mac’s chest and starts crying hard all over again.

  “This is the way it’s been,” Mac says. “For four months. Crying, not crying. Liking each other, hating each other. But not being able to walk away from each other. It totally sucks.”

  I watch them clinging to one another, two more kids like us feeling the sideways damage from that terrible night. Ellie’s been a mess ever since, lying to everyone, manipulating me, fighting with her mom, skipping school. Then there’s her relationship with Mac, needing to be with him all the time, but constantly fighting. They’re both walking disasters.

  But now I think I understand why.

  Jake and I are definitely not the same as them, but we know what it’s like to be haunted by guilt, followed by that horrible shadow.

  “You know what, guys,” I tell them. “There just might be a way to start fixing this. It’s not gonna be easy, but it’ll be totally worth it. I’ll fill you in right after the dance.”

  Ellie nods, and then Jake and I leave her and Mac to their sniffles and tears.

  Ellie may not be crying, but she is definitely not happy when she hears my plan. Her hand is right in my face.

  “I absolutely cannot face that family, Clems. There is no way.”

  The four of us are sitting around a table eating burgers and fries in McDonalds after the dance. Mac drove us here in the Wildcat. He stuck around for the rest of the Sadie Hawkins, dressed as Banquo’s ghost. And with a bit of help from the lipstick and liner in Ellie’s makeup bag, we managed to turn her into a semi-zombie, with mussed-up hair, smudged up eyes, and dripping blood. Which means that, right now, a lot of people in McDs are staring at us, grinning.

  “So, you might as well just quit talking about it because it ain’t happening.” Ellie looks at Mac. His face is practically as white as Banquo’s. “Mac agrees, I think,” she adds. Mac just sits there nodding slowly.

  “But we did it,” I tell them. “Trust me, Jake and I were terrified, but we did it. And Kit’s mom wasn’t so bad. More sad than mad. But real happy to hear stories about Kit.”

  “She even made us tea,” Jake says.

  “But we killed her son,” Ellie half-shrieks, and a couple of heads turn our way.

  “No, you didn’t,” I tell her. “It was an accident. Remember?”

  “But if we hadn’t been there, it wouldn’t have happened at all.” Mac pokes at the remains of his Big Mac. He pushes it away. “How can we even look her in the eye?”

  I take a deep breath. “Look, I can’t stop blaming myself, either. He went looking for a place to pee and never came back. And I never went to check on him. How can I ever forgive myself for that?”

  “And, god, Clems, I let you just keep on believing it was your fault, so I wouldn’t have to confess our part in it.” Ellie swallows hard as more tears seep out. “How can’t you hate me?”

  “It hasn’t been easy,” I admit. “In fact a few times …”

  “It’s my fault he was there.” Our heads turn when Jake says that. “He followed me to the quarry, and I let him come. And I didn’t check up on him after.”

  “And if a bunch of kids hadn’t planned the field party, none of us would have been there,” I say, trying to convince myself. “Isn’t it just a whole lot of bad timing and bad luck?”

  Mac hunches over the table and buries his head in his arms. Ellie rubs his back in slow circles. “We are all horrible people,” she murmurs.

  I can’t even find a good reason to disagree with her.

  “Look, we all had our stupid, selfish reasons for doing what we did that night,” I tell them. “And nothing will ever bring Kit back. So the best thing I think we can do is try to help out his family. Any way we can. So Ms. Stitski will stop trying to find someone to blame, and find a way to move on instead.”

  “Like how?” Jake asks.

  “There’s plenty of ways. I’m helping Kevin with school. You guys will think of something. What happened that night is done. What happens next is up to us.”

  Mac blows out a long slow sigh. Ellie chews on her lip.

  “So, what about the watch?” she says. “I don’t ever want to see it again. And, god, I sure don’t want Kit’s mom finding out about it. Imagine what would happen if she did.” Ellie’s eyes get wide at the thought. “What should we do with it, Clems?”

  I’ve been thinking about that for the whole evening. I’ve finally made up my mind.

  “It’s your watch, Ellie. So I guess you should be the one to decide.”

  Ellie’s eyebrows fly up. “Okay, so how about we give it back to Kit?” she says. Clearly she’s been thinking about this, too. “Leave it in th
e last place he ever was, where his spirit might even still be. The quarry pond.”

  Mac nods. “I have a flashlight in my car. Let’s get it over with. We need to do this.”

  “But I don’t have the watch on me,” I tell them as uneasiness creeps in. “We’d have to go to my place and get it. And my curfew’s midnight.”

  “It’s only 11:20,” Ellie says. “There’s lots of time. Five minutes to your place, ten to the quarry if we hurry. Let’s do it. Please! I need some closure. This will help.”

  “But only if you’re okay with this, Clems.” Jake grabs my hand under the table. “We don’t have to do it if it won’t work for you.”

  Ellie and Mac are gazing at me with desperation. I shrug. Then I nod.

  We couldn’t have picked an eerier night to do the deed. Like, the scare factor of the school’s graveyard theme multiplied by a hundred. Floating fingers of fog swirl past the car as Mac steers it along the narrow gravel laneway that ends at the quarry. Tonight the stars are buried behind a thick cloud cover, and beyond the car headlights, the scattered trees and bushes gleam like creepy stick people. I half expect Macbeth’s three witches to show up any minute.

  Squeezed up against Jake in the back seat, I clutch the watch in my hand. My parents, who were already in bed, didn’t even notice when I slipped inside the house to grab it. And the only sound from Zach’s room was an annoying video game blasting away.

  Now that we’re here, I wonder if this was such a great plan after all. But I know it’s too late for that, too late to turn back. When Mac cuts the car engine and lights, all around us is dead dark.

  “Flashlight. Hurry,” I say as Jake and I crawl out of the back seat.

  As the fog swirls around us in the flashlight beam, it’s like we’re walking inside a ghost. I slip my arm through Jake’s and pull him closer. Two steps ahead, Ellie lights the path, bouncing the beam off all the landmarks that don’t seem so familiar anymore. Mac is glued to her like a shadow as we walk in silence toward the spot where Kit vanished that night.

  We all stop near the edge. Ellie dances the light across the black surface of the water. The bright-white circle shifts and splinters like broken shards of moon. I bite the inside of my cheek so I won’t burst into tears.

  “You’re the one who should do this, Ellie,” I say, and I hand her the watch.

  She pinches it between her finger and thumb like it’s something vile.

  “I hate this thing,” she murmurs, and flings out her arm.

  We all hear the splash when her watch hits the water. Afterward, we can’t get away from that place fast enough. The car doors slam, Mac’s tires spin on the gravel, then the Wildcat bumps and lurches along toward the road.

  But then he hits the brakes. There’s another car coming at us, and seconds later it stops directly in front of us, blocking our way.

  I realize it’s a police cruiser just as the two officers are climbing out.

  16

  Mac switches off the car engine. None of us utter a word. The only sound is our breathing. In the dark I grope for Jake’s hand. It’s as clammy as mine.

  Only one of the officers approaches the car. He taps on the window, while the other one takes down the licence plate then goes back to the cruiser. I figure he’s checking it.

  “Let me do the talking, okay?” Mac says, just before he cranks the window down.

  “Nice car,” the officer says. “Is it yours?”

  “Grad present from my folks, officer,” Mac says in a polite voice as he hands the cop his driver’s licence.

  “Lucky you.” The officer looks at the licence for a moment, then leans through the window and shines a flashlight in our faces, one by one.

  “And what are you kids doing out here tonight?” he says. He sniffs, probably looking for the wrong kind of smell: booze on our breaths, a whiff of pot. Satisfied, he backs away.

  “Just hanging out after the school dance,” Mac tells him.

  “A costume party, I hope.” He grins a bit as he looks us over. “But aren’t you a little old for a school dance, MacKenzie?”

  “It’s my girlfriend Ellie Denton’s high school, sir.” Mac’s voice is steady. I have a feeling he’s used to answering questions like this.

  “Is that you?” he aims the light at Ellie and she squints.

  “Uh-huh, I mean, yes, officer.”

  “And you two were at the dance as well?” The light is in our eyes now. We nod.

  “So why pick this place?”

  “Guess it’s sort of a town hangout, sir,” Mac says. “We went to McDonalds after the dance, then came here. My friends still had some time left before their curfew.”

  “And what time’s the curfew?”

  “Pretty soon. Midnight,” Mac tells him.

  “Uh-huh, okay.” Then he walks back to the cruiser and consults with the other officer. I hear Ellie gasping. It sounds like she’s hyperventilating.

  “Shhh,” Mac says, rubbing her back. “It’s all good, stay cool.”

  He comes back, shines the light on Mac’s face again, and hands back his licence.

  “Okay, the plate checks out. You should pay that parking ticket though.”

  “I’ve been meaning to do that. Sorry, officer.”

  “You kids do know what happened here a few months ago?” the cop says. “Don’t you?”

  It doesn’t really seem like a question, though. Jake squeezes my hand so hard it hurts.

  “Yes, sir,” Mac says, solemnly. “We all do.”

  “So were any of you here that night? When Kristopher Stitski died?”

  Blaring silence. My whole body is quaking. I want to jump from the car and run.

  “Look,” the officer says. “I know that nobody wants to talk about it. I get that. But this is a lousy spot to hang out. Somebody died here. It’s dangerous, treacherous. Don’t come here anymore. Got that, everybody?”

  “Yes, sir,” Mac says.

  “And the rest of you?”

  “Yes, sir,” we all say.

  “Good. Now take these kids home, MacKenzie,” he says, then raps on the side of the Wildcat before walking back to the cruiser.

  Mac lays his head on the steering wheel. In the dim glow from a distant streetlight, I can see his shoulders shaking as Ellie leans against him and rubs his back.

  When I start crying, Jake pulls me closer and wipes the tears from my cheeks. I can hear him sniffling, too.

  During the silent ride home, each of us have our own muddled thoughts messing with our heads. An almost greedy guilt gnaws into my brain, like some ravenous gremlin that’s been waiting too long to be fed. When will this feeling ever go away? And how different will I feel if it does?

  After Mac drops me off, and I hug everyone goodbye, I break house rules and take my phone to my room. I’m still on edge, and I want to stay connected in case Jake needs to talk. I keep it on vibrate, and hold it in my hand for security while I stare at the ceiling, aware that sleep will be playing hide-and-seek.

  My eyes are still wide open when Ellie texts after 2 a.m.

  U awake?

  Haven’t slept yet, I say.

  Me either. Too freaked.

  I feel sick inside out.

  So what happens next?

  Wish I could tell you, Els.

  Yeah, I know, Clems.

  Nite. I switch off my phone and wait for sleep to come find me.

  Sunday afternoon. I sit at a table in the library feeling all muzzy in the head. The rest of my night was haunted by the guilt gremlin, disturbed by twisted dreams. My eyes opened for the day way too early.

  I stayed in my room until late morning, then tried to conjure up a smile when Mom was dishing out pancakes and sausage. I told the family that the dance was fun, and Dad said he didn’t even hear me come home. I reassured him that I hadn’t brok
en curfew. He said, no worries, he trusts me, then squeezed my hand. A part of me shrivelled up inside.

  I went back to my room until it was time to leave for the library with my brother and meet up with Kevin.

  Beside me Zach squirms in his chair. He usually spends Sunday afternoons playing video games, not studying. I’m still surprised that he agreed to come.

  “Why couldn’t we do this at home?” he says.

  “Relax. It won’t kill you to skip screen time for a change. Go find a book to read or something.” I sweep out my arm at the rows of shelves and stacks of books everywhere.

  “You sound just like Mom. When are they coming, anyway?”

  It’s already past two. Ms. Stitski and Kevin are late. I wonder if maybe I should have called to remind them.

  When Zach gets bored enough to wander into the children’s section, I check my phone. Jake texted me first thing this morning to ask if I was okay. I told him yes, even though I wasn’t. When I asked him, he lied, too. I haven’t heard from anyone since.

  How can any of us possibly be okay after last night? I’m being eaten alive by the likelihood that we’ve made a huge mistake by getting rid of the watch and remaining mute in front of the police officer. He knew. How could he not know. The silence inside Mac’s car was practically shrieking out our failure to do the right thing.

  After all these months, the complete story, with all the puzzle pieces filled in, is finally clear to me. To the four of us. We are sitting on the truth. But how can revealing it make any difference to the outcome? Do Ms. Stitski and Kevin deserve to know, or would that knowledge slice even deeper into their wounds?

  “Is this a dagger which I see before me,” I murmur. No wonder Lady Macbeth went insane from the guilt.

  There’s a commotion near the entrance, then Kevin Stitski comes bounding across the library, grinning wide. Behind him his mom, wearing pressed jeans and a matching jacket, crosses the floor in her brisk, efficient way, eyes straight ahead, chin jutting, on a mission. She’s wearing dark, square-framed glasses, and a touch of makeup brightens her face. But she also looks scared. I try not to stare.