The Queen of Diamonds

by Tracey Landau

  Now I was alone with the guy with the gun and familiar voice. We sat in the car and stared at each other. SHIT SHIT SHIT, I thought. There was silence for what must’ve been only five minutes, but felt like a lifetime, when the guy with the gun finally spoke.

  “What number am I thinking of?”

  Not what I was expecting.

  “Wh-What? Uh…eighty-nine?”

  “Aaawesome. Like I said, dude, you can make money off of that!”

  I sat dumbly staring at him, completely confused. He laughed and pulled off the ski mask, revealing a young, smiling face.

  “Remember me? Jimmy? From the party?” he laughed.

  I was still confused. He slapped me on the back and kept laughing. He seemed happy enough, so I ventured to ask, “You’re not going to shoot me, are me?”

  He seemed surprised. “What? No! Of course not! It’s not even loaded.”

  He threw the gun into the front, causing me to flinch.

  “Just, you know, don’t tell anyone about this…I mean.… You’re not gonna say nothing to the cops, right? Cause I can get bullets.”

  “NO, no,” I answered quickly. “My lips are sealed.”

  The boy smiled again. “Good. Hey, chill out dude! Man, you should see your face right now.”

  “Yeah, okay…you just robbed that guy.”

  “Yeah, don’t worry about it; we do it all the time. See, we only really steal back the amount we’ve spent there. The three of us, we shop there all the time.”

  “Um.… What?”

  “Yeah! Mr. Thompson, the manager, he’s a great guy. Known him for years.”

  “Okay.…”

  “The way we see it, this guy runs a convenience store all day. All he does. He isn’t a doctor, or a lawyer. He never went to college. Doesn’t have any kids, isn’t married. He just owns a convenience store.” Jimmy smiled. “We add some excitement to his life!”

  This kid’s twisted, I thought, but I smiled and nodded. He asked me what I was doing there and I told him about Molly’s shopping list.

  “Ah, the hot sister! Well, listen, Thompson’s probably closed up by now. Or he’s talking to the police, whatever. Let me buy you a drink to make it up to you.”

  He scrambled into the front seat and threw the gun into the glove compartment.

  “We’ll have to use your ID though…left my fake one at home,” he said as he twisted the key in the ignition, forcing the car coughing back to life.

  I’ve never been one to turn down a free drink. So, realizing I had nothing better to do, I accepted his invitation. That night Jimmy and I swapped hundreds of stories, drank heavily, and had a surprisingly good time. He told me about his phobias of bees and buttons and most things starting with B, and I told him about my schizophrenia. We exchanged cell phone numbers.

  A little while later when I found out Molly was missing, strangely, he was the first one I told.

  * * * *

  “Isn’t that crazy, Les? The same robbers, three times,” Jimmy smirks at me.

  “If they knew what was good for them, they’d stop robbing this place, especially now that he has a gun,” I say rather pointedly to Jimmy.

  He smiles at me sadly. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  “So you’ll stop?” I ask him later when we’re alone in the back of the store by the drinks.

  “Yeah, yeah…I’ll find somewhere else to shop,” Jimmy grumbles.

  “You’re ridiculous. So, why’d you call me?”

  “I didn’t call you.”

  I freeze. “Wait.… What?”

  He looks at me, confused. Was I imagining his phone call? I start thinking back when Jimmy cracks up.

  “Yeah, nah, I’m just kidding, I called you. Damn, you thought you were going all schizo, didn’t ya?”

  “Jimmy! What did you want to tell me?”

  “Cop.”

  “What?”

  Jimmy grabs me and hides me behind a rack of chips. We’re kneeling on the floor and at first I’m not sure why.

  “There’s a cop over there,” Jimmy whispers.

  “I thought you said no one knew you were one of the robbers?”

  “Not me, you!” He points to the tracking bracelet around my ankle.

  “Shit. You don’t think.…”

  “Calm down.”

  “Shit, shit, shit.”

  “Calm down!” he hisses at me. “He’s probably just here for a doughnut or something.”

  I peak over the rack and see the cop by the baked goods. I kneel back down and the realization hits me.

  “That’s the cop from the police station!” I whisper.

  “Les, all cops are from police stations,”

  “I mean the one who hates me! The one who was there when I was brought in and questioned and put under hypnosis—”

  “You were put under hypnosis? That’s crazy!”

  “He knows I’m a schizophrenic. He’s going to see this tracking thing and put two and two together! I should’ve just brought Danny along.”

  “All right, I see why you’re upset.”

  “We’ve got to get out of here before he sees me.”

  “Try the bathroom; it might have a window,” a voice belonging to neither me nor Jimmy says. For a second I think we’ve been discovered by the cop. Then I turn around and see Scott.

  Oh no, I think.

  “Listen, I know what you’re thinking, but yell at me later. You know you can trust me to get you out of this,” Scott tells me.

  I know he’s right, but I’m afraid to trust him. I look at Jimmy who’s looking at me, waiting.

  “Jimmy, bathroom.”

  “What? Go later!”

  “No, I mean there might be a way out.”

  Scott smiles, pleased that I’m listening to him.

  We sneak into the bathroom and close the door quietly behind us. I look around the tight room. No windows.

  “Great job, Scott,” I growl. Scott shrugs and Jimmy looks at me confused.

  “I’m Jimmy.”

  “I know.”

  “You called me Scott.”

  “No, I didn’t. I called Scott ‘Scott’.” I ignore Jimmy’s puzzled expression and watch Scott circle the room, thinking of a way to get us out. He would come up with something, too—he always did.

  Scott was that very, very realistic imaginary friend I had when I was a little kid. I mentioned him earlier. I never forgave him for trying to turn me against my family.… See, when my parents found out Scott wasn’t an “imaginary friend” but a schizophrenic manifestation, they tried to convince me he was fake. He retaliated by trying to convince me to run away from home.

  Other than aging with me, he’s always looked exactly the same: Scott has spiky purple hair, clear, pale skin, and dark, purple eyes. He wears a florescent light green jacket, a black and white striped T-shirt, black pants, and checkered Converse sneakers. It never changes, and despite these peculiarities, he’s always seemed so real to me. It’s hard to just ignore him and accept he’s nothing more than a mirage.

  I catch myself believing in him now.

  “Scott isn’t real,” I tell Jimmy and try to ignore Scott’s hurt expression. It gets my heart pumping like I just got into a fight with a close friend—which, I suppose, Scott was.

  * * * *

  “Les, meet Derek. Derek, this is my brother, Les,” Molly introduces us.

  I shook Derek’s hand and said hi. Derek had one of those familiar faces, dirty blond hair, and introspective brown eyes. I could see Danny’s interest in him when Derek’s face lit up into a bright smile, looking warm and receptive.

  “So Danny tells me you’re a real success story! Actor on Broadway, right?”

  “I don’t know where he’s getting that from. No; I’d like to act, but I’m mostly focused on dance.”

  “Don’t downplay it!” Molly interrupted. She beamed at Derek before continuing with “He’s a professional dancer who’s worked at all the prestigious dance companies in New
York City.” She turned to me. “You’re so much more graceful than the rest of our family.”

  “I don’t know about that; Mom’s a good dancer.”

  “Psh, she’s nothing compared to you.”

  I smiled at her. Derek asked how long I’d be staying and I told him I was leaving Monday morning. Molly groaned.

  “Well, we’ll see about that,” she muttered. “Oh, hey, do the thing!”

  “What thing?”

  “Les can read minds!” Molly said giddily to Derek.

  “What?” Derek seemed almost scared.

  “She’s exaggerating,” I spoke up. “Just think of a number.”

  “Um…okay.”

  “Forty-two.”

  Derek looked shocked. Molly laughed and clapped her hands like she was three. Honestly, though, I enjoyed it, too.

  “Well, if you find yourself with free time tomorrow, we’ll be doing a brief run-through starting at 5:00. You can come and watch if you want,” Derek offered.

  “Sure, I’d really like to see it. As long as Molly can give me a ride?”

  “Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’ll drop you off before I go to work.” Molly said nodding.

  “Sounds like a plan! I’ll see you tomorrow and we can talk more about New York,” Derek beamed before we said good-bye.

  As Molly and I left the theatre I caught sight of the non-existing woman. She was heading towards the stage door. I tried to get Molly’s attention, but by the time we turned around she was gone.

  * * * *

  “Cop’s gone, we’re in the clear,” Jimmy tells me after disappearing for a few minutes to check the store. Jimmy buys a strawberry milkshake before we leave the Quick Check and again I ask Jimmy why he needed to see me.

  “Les, that explosion was no accident.”

  “I don’t doubt that—”

  “But you don’t seem to understand, man. That was meant to kill someone.… This non-existing existing woman, whoever she is, I don’t think you can trust her.”

  “It was her house, Jimmy. Her stuff was there, her cat.… She’s not going to blow up her own house.”

  “Then someone’s trying to kill her, and you and your sister are smack in the middle of it all, whatever ‘it’ is.”

  “Why couldn’t I bring my brother to hear this?”

  “’Cause there’s more.” Jimmy stops walking. I stop too.

  “There weren’t just pictures of you in the house.”

  “Okay.… What, were there pictures of Danny?”

  “Kinda,” Jimmy takes something out of his pocket and gives it to me.

  It’s a picture of Danny from some birthday party when we were teenagers. Jimmy tells me to flip it over. I do and see there’s writing on the back—a street address.

  “It might be nothing,” Jimmy starts to say, but I cut him off.

  “This is Danny’s address,” I notice my hand’s quivering.

  “Yeah? See, I didn’t want to worry him.… Les, does someone have something against your family?” Jimmy asks quietly. I can’t answer. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt my family.

  “That’s not it,” a voice responds to my thoughts. I look up. Scott’s back.

  “Ugh,” I mutter aloud.

  “Just hear me out,” Scott says hurriedly. “Listen, don’t be fooled by the way things look.”

  “Shut up. Leave me alone. You’re not even real,” I yell at him. Jimmy’s confused and looks concerned, but I’m focused on Scott.

  “You’re right.” Scott responds. “I’m just a part of you. That’s why you should listen to me.”

  I’m quiet. He waits for me to say something. I don’t, so he continues.

  “I am your instinct, your inner thought, and I have never failed you. Face it; you need me right now. We can figure this out.… You can figure this out. Just let me help you. It’s always good to have another, outside—or, maybe in this case, inside perspective on things.”

  Maybe he has something there. What did he know—what did I know—that I wasn’t putting together?

  “LES!” I realize Jimmy’s trying to get my attention.

  “It’s not real! Whoever or whatever it is, it’s not real.”

  I look back and forth between Scott and Jimmy. I realize I’m getting worse and sigh.

  I’m sorry Scott, but I can’t do this, I think to myself. “I’m gonna start taking the medication,” I say out loud.

  “What?! Fine, just…here!” Scott grabs my arm and pushes something in my hand. I swear I can feel it, a thick piece of paper in my hand. I look at it and see it’s a playing card with an empty front. In the blank space there’s a number written in small cursive: Thirty-two. I look up.

  “Thirty-two?”

  Scott shakes his head no, disappointed. I look back down at my hand but the card’s gone, as is Scott.

  “So, what are you thinking?” Jimmy’s asking me. I close my empty hand and put the photo of Danny in my pocket.

  “I think…I think there’s more to this than there appears to be.…”

  I look Jimmy in the eyes and say confidently, “I don’t think we have to worry about Danny. Let’s just focus on finding Molly.”

  My cell phone rings. I pick it up and hear Brendan’s voice.

  “The woman you were looking for is here,” the voice says.

  * * * *

  “But you can’t leave! I hardly spent any time with you!” Molly moaned. It was already Sunday and I was attempting to pack. It was proving to be a difficult task. Molly sat on my suitcase, grabbed the clothes I had in my hands, and held them behind her back.

  “There’s this great party we could go to tomorrow night, and I’m completely free all Tuesday morning!”

  “Get off or I’ll tickle you.”

  “I’ll pay for your drinks? Listen to me! Ever since you left for New York I hardly ever see you!”

  “I know I’m irresistible, but—”

  “Les.” Molly looked serious. Her eyes drooped and she gave me a pitiful, sad puppy-dog look. I sighed to myself. My brothers were never this clingy.

  I reviewed my schedule in my head and realized I actually was free until the end of the month, but never considered staying in Jersey for that long.

  “Please?”

  “Maybe…I’ll call Jenny and ask if I could come back Wednesday instead.”

  “Thank you! See, I knew you couldn’t resist my puppy eyes.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s more pathetic than cute.”

  “Whatever works!” she said cheerfully. “So, am I dropping you off at the theatre?”

  “Sure. I’m excited about this play—it’ll also be interesting to see how good of an actor Derek is.”

  * * * *

  It’s sunset when I get back to the theatre. The sky has turned into a water-color painting, a blend of blue and purple sky dotted with pink clouds. The sun hides behind the silhouettes of flourishing trees, and the air has a scent that can only be described as summer.

  I see that Danny had called my cell phone about seven times. He’s going to kill me, I think. I walk up the steps of the theatre and attempt to open one of the doors. It doesn’t budge. I try all the other front doors, but each one is locked. Maybe the rehearsal ended already? I back up and examine the building. The air is still and silent and I feel oddly alone, like I’m the only human on the planet.

  The rehearsal must be over. I didn’t get here fast enough.

  I walk back to Danny’s car, look at the theatre again, and notice a side door to the building in the alley between the theatre and the neighboring Italian restaurant. That might be unlocked.…

  I walk over and find the door propped open. Inside the theatre is dark and empty. The curtains are closed, and the only light comes from the glowing red exit sign.

  “Hello?” I call out.

  Silence responds, telling me to abandon my quest and go back to the car. I’m not convinced. I move through the dark and scan every row to make sure the non-existing woma
n isn’t hiding somewhere, watching me with that peculiar, almost sinister smile. I desperately hope she’s here somewhere.… Right now she’s the only thing connecting me to Molly.

  I walk around for maybe ten minutes before I decide to leave. Then I notice a sliver of orange light escaping from underneath the door leading to the backstage office.

  Someone is here.

  I walk over and hear someone whispering inside. I creep closer to the door. Whoever it is, he/she is on the phone. The voice is so faint the conversation is hardly comprehensible, until suddenly the mystery person shouts, “Where the hell are you? Do you really think you can hide from me?!”

  Is that my sister on the other line? The voice goes quiet again. I kneel down to the door and slowly press my ear to its chipping painted wood. It only helps slightly.

  “You know I’d never hurt you…I told you, I have nothing to do with that, I don’t know what happened! Maybe someone else knows. I mean, that would make sense, if they were after.… Of course you can trust me! I’m your best friend. For God’s sake, stop being so overdramatic.… Don’t…I said don’t! I had no choice; you know that, you were there. We have to work together.… Yes.… Yes, I promise, we’ll find the guy who did this. You know the cops think it was that psycho Leslie.”

  My breath gets caught in my throat. They must be talking about the explosion. The conversation gets quiet again.

  “Can we talk? Face to face, I mean?”

  I could feel the conversation coming to an end. I slowly back away from the door, listening to the person pace inside.

  LIGHT! A sudden explosion of it nearly gives me a heart attack. The stage lights are suddenly on, brightly lighting the foreboding red curtains. I stumble back, making a scuffling noise. The person on the phone goes quiet.

  “Someone’s here.…” I could faintly hear the person whisper.

  I need to hide.… I dash for the stage, fumble around to find an opening and hide behind the curtains. I hear the light in the office click off and the door creak open. Then nothing…I strain to hear footsteps when I feel a gust of wind behind me. I turn around to see the lit set and am shocked.

  An exact replica of the unknown woman’s bedroom stands before me. I stare at it, expecting it to change back into the surrealistic set my brother and the crew had been building and walking around all week.

  “This…this is impossible,” I whisper to myself.