Unearthly Things

by Michelle Gagnon

  “Welcome to the Rochester Academy,” he said without looking up, his fingers flying across the controller. “Best home school in town.”

  “So this is what you do all day?” I asked.

  “Not all day,” he said defensively. “But Richard and Marion don’t really approve of my other activities.”

  I decided I didn’t really want to know what those were, either, so I didn’t ask. I settled on the other end of the couch and watched. The game was oddly mesmerizing, although I couldn’t repress a wince when his avatar brandished a flamethrower against the oncoming zombie horde.

  “Too close to home?” he asked, noticing my discomfort.

  I shifted. “Not a big fan of fire at the moment.”

  “Have you checked out your room yet?” When I shook my head, he said soberly, “I wouldn’t. It’s bad.”

  “Great.” I ran a hand through my wet hair. Right now, I felt incapable of tears, like I’d been wrung out and had no moisture left to spare. Shock, probably.

  “Georgie has you in her sights, too,” he warned. “Better be careful.”

  “I know.” I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. “You think she’ll get over it?”

  He laughed shortly. “Doubtful. Hailey Gardiner stole her boyfriend in eighth grade, and Georgie made her life miserable for years afterwards; I’m pretty sure the poor girl’s still committed to an institution somewhere. Danny Fairfax, huh?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  He shook his head, eyes still fixed on the game. “Watch out for him. He’s trouble.”

  “Funny, he said the same thing about you,” I snorted. “What’s the deal with you guys, anyway?”

  “He hasn’t told you?” John shot me a quick glance.

  I shrugged, not sure how much to reveal. “I know about the drugs.”

  “Good for Danny boy, trying honesty for a change,” John said. “Did he happen to mention how he paid for them?”

  He hadn’t, actually. But did it matter? Like Daniel said, that was in his past. Plus I didn’t like John’s tone. Forcefully, I said, “He’s different now.”

  “Sure he is.” John chuckled, then added, “I gotta say, Janie. For a smart girl, sometimes you can be awfully naïve.”

  I pushed off the couch. “Go to hell.”

  “Whoa, easy,” he said, setting down the controller. A wave of zombies washed over his avatar, and it vanished in a spurt of red. The screams emanating from the speakers reverberated through the room. “C’mon, I didn’t mean it. I was being a jerk. Sorry.”

  The plaintiveness in his voice made me hesitate. Plus, the alternative was going to face the ruins of my room, and I wasn’t up for that yet. Might never be, in fact. With a sigh, I moodily stalked back to the couch. “Fine. But if you say anything else about Daniel, I’m out of here.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m done shattering your illusions, at least for the moment.” John reset the game. As his fingers tapped buttons on the controller, he eyed me. “You’ve lost weight.”

  Self-consciously, I tugged at the jeans that had slipped down my hips. “Yeah, well. I’ve been a little stressed lately.”

  “A word of advice?” he said, while mowing down another row of zombies. “Eat out more.”

  “Why?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Just trust me. It’ll help with the nausea.”

  I stared at him, perplexed. Before I could question him further, he said, “Be grateful that you can afford a whole new wardrobe. All that potential shopping might make Georgie even more jealous, now that I think about it.”

  I laughed at that. “Please. I can probably barely afford another school uniform.”

  John hit the pause button and swiveled to face me with a frown. “You really don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what?”

  He held my gaze for a few beats, then said, “Let’s go for a walk.”

  “A walk? Why?”

  He was already getting to his feet. “We’re taking a little field trip. Don’t worry, it’s not far.”

  •

  “There it is,” John said with a wave.

  “There what is?” We were standing in front of a mansion a block away from the Rochesters. I’d noticed it frequently on the way to school, mainly because it was impossible not to; the place was nearly twice the size of the houses flanking it, and that was saying something. Behind an iron gate, a wide circular driveway led to a neoclassical monstrosity. It was like a slightly smaller version of the White House.

  “Your dad grew up here,” John said, regarding it appreciatively. “It stretches around to the other side of the block. There’s even a pool with a retractable roof.”

  “What?” I gripped the bars and gaped up at the place. The thought of my father walking through that front door was preposterous. “No way.”

  “It was in the Mason family for generations,” John continued, as if I hadn’t spoken. “They bought it before the quake; one of the few families who actually got rich off the Gold Rush. They’re the real old money. We’re just nouveau riche upstarts.”

  I was having a hard time wrapping my head around what he was saying. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope. This could’ve been yours.” He swept his hand in a wide arc. “There’s even a helipad up on the roof. Your grandfather was a pilot, he used to shuttle the family to Napa every weekend.”

  A helicopter, I thought with a start. My father had never explained how he learned to fly; I’d just assumed he’d taken lessons. But maybe his father had taught him. Which meant that what John was saying might actually be true. A wind whipped up, chasing stray leaves along the pavement. As they skittered past, I asked, “Who owns it now?”

  John laughed. “Oh, that’s the best part. After your grandmother died, it was bought by a couple who made a fortune with their Silicon Valley start-up. It drives Marion nuts. She always calls them, “Those horrible young people who wear jeans to galas. Listening to her, you’d never guess that she grew up in a split level ranch in Novato.”

  I had no idea where Novato was, but the thought of Marion in anything less than a mansion was even more preposterous than my dad spending his childhood here. “I still think you’re putting me on.”

  “Why would I do that?” he asked, sounding genuinely offended. “But hey, you know how tech money is. They’ll go broke in a few years, and you can buy it back.”

  I laughed. “With what money?”

  “You really don’t get it, do you?” John turned me to face him. Acutely aware of his hand on my arm, I flushed involuntarily. “Your grandparents were worth more than half the people in this city put together.”

  “Yeah, but they didn’t leave it to me,” I said.

  “From what I hear, they did,” he insisted. “Some sort of blind trust. They were still pissed at your dad for leaving, but your grandfather felt strongly that the money should stay in the Mason family line.”

  None of what he was saying made any sense. “How do you know all this?” I demanded.

  “I overhear things. It’s pretty much all Richard and Marion talk about, when you’re not in the room.” John waved up at the house. “Trust me. You could buy and sell these people ten times over.”

  My head was spinning. Grandparents I’d never met, leaving me some insane fortune? There was no way that was true.

  “You honestly didn’t think my parents took you in out of the goodness of their hearts, did you?” John asked.

  “They were my back-up guardians,” I said. “My parents made the will years ago, before my grandparents died, and they never updated it. Back then, our dads were best friends.”

  John laughed bitterly. “Right. They could have refused and sent you into foster care. Marion wouldn’t have given it a second thought.”

  “So why’d they say yes?” I demanded.
<
br />   He gazed at the passing cars without seeming to see them. “Let’s just say that the Rochester family fortune hasn’t been handled as competently as yours.”

  “What are you talking about? You guys are loaded.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving,” John said darkly. “Dear old Dad made some bad investments. Really bad. We were basically running on fumes until you came along.” He smiled wanly at me. “Saved by a Filipina surfer girl. You can imagine how Marion feels about that.”

  I was having a hard time processing all this information. Part of me was still struggling to picture my dad in this mansion. But like Richard said, he and my father were best friends. They’d gone to the same schools, lived the same life. My dad had probably been to cotillions. I was starting to wonder if I’d really known him at all.

  You did, a little voice in my head insisted. You knew the real him. He must have felt just as out of place in this world as I did. That’s why he’d left it all behind.

  But were the Rochesters really living off my trust? Was that even legal? I had to get in touch with Mr. Briggs and find out what the hell was going on.

  John was watching me guardedly. I wondered why he was really telling me all this; he wasn’t the type to do something out of the goodness of his heart.

  Be careful with that one, my mom’s voice whispered in my ear.

  “So I could’ve had a swimming pool?” I finally said. “That would’ve been awesome.”

  A look of relief swept across John’s face, and he laughed. “Just imagine the raging parties we could’ve thrown.”

  “Sure,” I said awkwardly. It felt like a gulf had opened between us, and I wasn’t certain how to bridge it, or if I even wanted to. This turned everything on its head. All along, I’d been feeling like a burden, the pauper mouse barely tolerated by wealthy distant relatives. But if John was telling the truth, I was their benefactor.

  “We should get back,” I suggested. “It’s cold out here.”

  We walked in silence back to the house. John’s face was unreadable, making me wonder if he regretted telling me all this. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, either. An unfamiliar feeling churned in my gut, one that took time to identify: a sensation of power. I could suddenly envision Marion and Georgina at my mercy, forced to beg for pocket money. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.

  I spotted Daniel’s car as soon as we turned into the driveway. He was sitting on the front stoop in his school uniform. Seeing me, he got to his feet, a look of relief on his face. “Janie! Thank God—”

  Spotting John, he froze. His features settled into a furious scowl.

  “Fairfax,” John said, keeping his hands tucked in his pockets.

  “Why aren’t you in school?” I asked.

  “I was worried,” Daniel said, an edge to his voice. “I heard about the fire and cut my last class. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He looked pointedly at John. “But I guess you’re just fine.”

  I really didn’t have the energy to deal with their male posturing right now. “Enough, you two. Let’s go inside.”

  “I actually have somewhere to be,” John said lightly. “Later, Janie.”

  He turned and stalked back toward the street. As soon as he was out of sight, Daniel glared at me. “What were you doing with him?”

  “It’s a long story,” I said. “And honestly, I’m freezing. If we’re going to fight again, can we at least do it inside?”

  Seeing the state of my room softened Daniel’s mood. It hardened mine, though. I stood helplessly by the fireplace, my feet sinking into the soaking wet carpet, surveying my surroundings with despair. It was even worse than I’d imagined; the few things spared by the fire had been destroyed by the firefighter’s zeal. It would be a miracle if I managed to salvage anything at all.

  “Crap,” I said.

  “Man.” Daniel’s eyes were wide as he took in the wreckage. “It must’ve been a huge fire.”

  “It was,” I said with a shudder. The lingering pall of smoke sharpened the memory of waking up to discover my room engulfed by flames.

  “God, I’m so glad you’re okay.” He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around me. I buried my face in his chest and inhaled deeply. I wished I could just take his hand, walk out of here, and never come back. We’d go live on a beach somewhere, leaving this house and all its madness far behind.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he murmured into my hair. “I just hate seeing you with that creep.”

  I stiffened. Not that John wasn’t a creep; in fact, he seemed to work pretty hard at sustaining that image. But I’d seen another side to him. He’d stood up for me last night, which was actually pretty remarkable. In a weird way, he’d become one of my only allies.

  But telling Daniel that would only provoke another fight. Instead, I said, “He actually told me something really strange today . . .”

  It tumbled out of my mouth in a rush: the will, the house, the blind trust. Daniel’s frown deepened when I got to the part about Richard and Marion only taking me in for my money.

  “Have you called that lawyer yet?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I haven’t had a chance. My phone burned up, too.”

  “There must be a landline here,” Daniel mused. “But you might not want a record of the call, in case they check. You can use mine if you want.”

  I laughed. “Wow. And I thought I was paranoid.”

  His eyes filled with concern. “Think about it, Janie. All this weird stuff has been happening, then you almost die in a fire. And you’re sick to your stomach, like, all the time.”

  I flashed back on John’s advice to eat out more. “What, you think they’re poisoning me?”

  He shrugged. “I know, it sounds nuts. But trust me; I’ve heard some pretty bad stuff about them. If something happens to you, who gets the money?”

  I dropped heavily into a chair and instantly regretted it; water soaked the back of my pants. Cursing, I leapt to my feet. Could the Rochesters really be that evil? Trying to kill me seemed beyond the pale, even for Marion. And none of them had looked happy about the damage to their house.

  On the other hand, it was confined to my room, which as John had pointed out was kind of weird.

  “I’d call your parents’ lawyer right away,” Daniel advised. “John might’ve been lying about the trust anyway.”

  “I don’t think he was,” I said slowly. “I mean, why would he?”

  Daniel grunted. “Because he’s John Rochester, and he’s a dick.”

  I chose not to respond. We stood in an uneasy silence for a few beats, then Daniel said, “So should we check the closet and drawers? Maybe some of your clothes are okay.”

  I nodded, and we set to work. Over the next half hour, we sorted my belongings into three piles: ruined, potentially salvageable, and mostly unscathed.

  Almost everything went in the ruined pile. My insides went tight as I took stock; and I hadn’t even dealt with the boxes yet. The cardboard stack had caved in on itself, looking like the lumpy remains of a sand castle after the tide had swept in. I wasn’t hopeful that anything inside had survived the deluge.

  “Hey!” Daniel exclaimed, pulling a hanger out of the closet. “Look what made it!”

  It was the dress I’d worn the night of the mixer. I shrugged; it was soot-free, but drooped from the hanger. “It’s silk. The water probably damaged it.”

  “Nah, I’ve got a great dry cleaner. He can definitely work with this.” Daniel smiled at me. “Man, you looked amazing that night. I was almost too scared to talk to you.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah. Fortunately for me, you started choking to death on a quiche.”

  “Not one of my better moments,” I said wryly.

  “I was a little bummed that I didn’t get to practice the Heimlich,” he teased. “
I was getting ready to grab you for it.”

  “Like how you dragged me out of the surf?”

  “Exactly. So I’ve basically saved your life twice now.”

  “Real-ly,” I drawled.

  “Yup. You’re a total damsel in distress.”

  I threw a pair of sodden socks at him. He dodged them, then held up the dress. “Hey! Don’t make it any worse!”

  I laughed and threw another pair, then another. He parried with the dress, batting the socks back toward me. There was a hysterical edge to our banter; the giggles bursting out of me sounded high and strained.

  “Janie?”

  I turned to find Nicholas standing uncertainly at the door.

  “Hey, kiddo,” Daniel said, composing himself. “What’s up?

  “Nothing,” Nicholas murmured, eyeing him distrustfully. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Daniel. Janie’s friend.”

  Friend, I noted. Not boyfriend. But maybe he just didn’t want to confuse the kid. “Hey, Nicholas,” I said. “Did you get back to sleep last night?”

  He shook his head mournfully. “No. I was crying. I know you think I started the fire, Janie. But I didn’t, promise!”

  I frowned, startled by the raw emotion in his voice. “Nicholas, I know that.”

  Tears coursed down his cheeks. “Everyone thinks I did. But it wasn’t me this time, it really wasn’t!” He spoke in shuddery hiccups.

  I crouched down and pulled him into a hug. “Shh, it’s okay. No one thinks that.”

  Over his shoulder, I saw Daniel eyeing us thoughtfully. When I raised my eyebrows at him, he gave a small shake of his head.

  “Listen,” I said. “Why don’t we go downstairs and get some hot cocoa and a snack. Does that sound okay?”

  He nodded. I straightened and turned to Daniel.

  “Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll keep sorting through stuff.”

  I hesitated, picturing him stumbling across my collection of My Little Ponies. But they’d probably melted, anyway.

  “All right,” I agreed. “I’ll be back soon.”