by Carrie Mac
”You don’t have to go along with it,” Leaf said after Zoe was finished and April still hadn’t said anything. “I’m not so sure it’s a good idea.”
After another long silence, April got up. She opened the curtains and looked straight at Shadow. “I’ll do it.”
The police arriving was the first part. Zoe watched out of Lewis’s window. Sure enough, across the lane and down six doors, Janika’s bedroom curtains were open and more than one face was watching. Zoe squinted. Heather, Beck and Janika. Maybe the others were there too, but maybe not, and it didn’t matter. The plan would work even if it was only Janika who saw, though Zoe didn’t doubt that all the Beckoners were at Janika’s that morning to watch the fallout. Zoe watched the girls watch the police arrive. She’d read somewhere once that serial killers start out by hurting animals. Did they know that? Which one of them actually did it, she wondered. Brady? Beck? Had they been stoned? Drunk? High on the hype of each other?
Downstairs, John was dealing with the police. Two cars had come, which only added to the plan but happened only because it was a slow New Year’s Day so far for the cops. All four officers had been at the truck stop out by the highway. When they’d heard it was only a dead dog, they’d taken their time, which had been just enough time to convince Barb and John to go along with Zoe’s plan.
One set of cops took pictures while the other took notes and questioned John on the front step. John answered each question, and if any of the cops thought he was overly upset over a dead dog, none of them acted like it. John was already acting, even though he wouldn’t have to really start until after the police left.
April’s dad had not been easily sold on the idea, but then April told him about the mannequin and then told him it was the only thing that would make the Beckoners stop forever. He’d agreed to go along with it, after taking a few minutes to pray in private about it with Barb upstairs.
Jesus must’ve agreed. They came down, holding hands, agreeing to the plan as though God himself had whispered in their ears that if they didn’t go along with this their precious lamb of His might just go ahead and kill herself for real, or run away and become a crack-addicted whore dying on the streets of Vancouver.
Teo and Simon came over, slipping in through the back. John looked sidelong and critically at them as they climbed the stairs to Lewis’s room. Simon and Zoe kept track of what was happening at Janika’s window the whole time. While the police were still there, an ambulance pulled up, lights flashing, sirens soberly quiet. Right on time and doing the trick beautifully. The Beckoners were all at the window now, even Brady and Trevor, all crammed together, staring out. Zoe looked through Lewis’s binoculars. April came up to look, and so did Leaf, taking turns peeking through the heavy curtains.
“They’re shoving past each other to get a better view!” Leaf laughed.
April didn’t laugh. She took the binoculars and watched the Beckoners panic.
When the police left, Zoe went downstairs and joined the others at the table while Barb maniacally served up pancakes. Barb and April and Zoe couldn’t eat, but John and Leaf and John’s two colleagues, who were actually on call and said they’d be glad to help so long as they weren’t called out in the meantime, ate more than their fair share. Simon and Teo stayed upstairs. They said they didn’t mind keeping watch. They said they weren’t hungry, but Zoe knew it was because of April’s parent’s disapproval of them.
One of the ambulance attendants had a ponytail and a tribal tattoo circling his left biceps. That was McEwen. He loved the plan. Doug, the driver, was much older and rather quiet about the whole idea. His jaw clicked when he chewed.
“All right then.” John emptied his coffee mug in one swallow. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Yeah, okay,” McEwen shoveled another fork full of pancake into his mouth, downed a glass of orange juice and pushed back his chair. “I’ll get the stretcher.”
Doug kept eating, chewing slowly. “Holler when you need me,” he said between clicks.
“Think of it as a movie and we’re all the actors,” Zoe said. “Doug, all you have to do is drive. Barb and John will do the hard work.”
“They’re going nuts!” Simon called from upstairs. “They’re coming outside!”
It was working beautifully.
McEwen was back, a proud grin on his face. “I made sure those little tweakers saw me unroll the body bag.”
John rooted through the storage closet, looking for Annie, the full-sized CPR doll he used when he taught First Aid in the church basement. He yanked her free from the tangle of beach gear and with the help of McEwen zipped her into the black body bag.
It was a creepy thing to see, that full body bag—the outline of Annie, head to toe. It was very convincing.
“Givin’ me the willies,” McEwen said.
Zoe watched Barb and John. They were holding hands, eyes closed, praying again. For what? Annie? April? The Beckoners?
“Get it out of here,” April said, turning away.
“Sure, sweetheart.” McEwen nodded at Doug, who reluctantly put down his fork and wiped his mouth before helping to lift Annie onto the stretcher. As they made their way to the door, Zoe, April and Leaf raced upstairs to join Simon and Teo to watch what the Beckoners would do when they laid eyes on the full body bag being lifted into the ambulance.
The Beckoners were all outside now, as were most of the neighbors too. Barb had worried that might happen, but Zoe was glad, it only made the charade so much more believable, and Barb could go around later and explain it was just John and his buddies playing a prank.
The Beckoners turned to each other as McEwen and Doug lifted the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. Janika’s hands covered her mouth. Jazz stared, arms limp at her sides. Lindsay and Heather argued loudly. Brady and Trevor stood far apart, hands in their pockets, not looking at anybody or each other. Beck sat on the step, head in her hands.
John and Barb wept for real. Zoe didn’t have to wonder where they summoned the tears from. All it would’ve taken would be to imagine if it really was April in that body bag. John put his arm around Barb’s shoulders and held her close while McEwen shut the doors and Doug started the engine. Then, as the ambulance drove away, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground, overcome with grief. But it wasn’t really grief. The black humor of it had suddenly hit him. He was covering his face so the Beckoners wouldn’t see him laughing uncontrollably. Barb helped him up, and then the two of them came inside, leaning heavily on each other.
April handed the binoculars to Zoe. “Now what?”
“Now we wait.” Zoe watched the Beckoners file back inside, shoulders slumped, faces drenched in shock. It had worked. They thought April had killed herself because of them.
panic
The Beckoners had no one else to turn to except Zoe. When Zoe got home, after she’d set April up with an armload of videos and a bag of junk food, the curtains pinned shut, there were ten messages from Janika, all begging her to call. Zoe took a deep breath and dialed.
“What happened?” Janika was frantic. “What’s going on?”
“Like you don’t know.” Zoe’s voice was steel.
“Oh, God. She didn’t. Oh my God.” Janika pulled away from the phone. “She did!” She screamed at the others. “She killed herself!”
Zoe waited quietly.
“What are we going to do?” Janika screamed down the phone. In the background, Heather and Lindsay yelled at each other.
“It’s your fault!” Lindsay screamed.
“It wasn’t even me!” Heather screeched, her voice tight with fear. “It’s Brady’s fault! If he never hit the dog none of this would be happening.”
“Yeah?” Brady’s voice wavered dangerously close to tears. “Who told me to head straight for it, huh? Don’t play all innocent, Heather. You’re just as covered in shit as the rest of us.”
“Janika?” Zoe said her name softly.
“Shut up! Everybody just shut the fuck
up!” Janika’s voice shook. “Yeah?”
“She left a note, Janika.”
“I have to go.”
“There was a note, with your names...”
“I never meant—” Janika’s voice caught. “We didn’t mean—”
“Mean what?” Zoe tried not to sound icy.
Janika couldn’t talk. She just cried and cried while Zoe happily listened to the Beckoners rip each other apart in the background.
“I can’t deal with this,” Janika finally choked out before hanging up the phone.
Zoe set the phone down. Janika would call back. They would want to know what the note said.
When Janika called back late that night, Zoe made sure she spoke clearly and calmly.
“It would be best if you all went to the police.”
“We can’t do that!” Janika said in between sobs. “We already got assault charges!”
“You have to. The note blames all of you. By name.” Zoe had written down what she wanted to say, just in case she got swept up in Janika’s very real fear and blurted out the truth. She was almost tempted, hearing how upset Janika was, but she kept to the script.
“If you don’t go, they’ll come for you.” Zoe touched the words with her finger as she said them. “That would be worse. You want them breaking down your doors and cuffing you in front of your parents? Wouldn’t it be better if you all went and explained yourselves as best as you could? It would look better for all of you, especially after what happened in the park.” There was a long pause.
“You think so?” Janika blew her nose.
“Yes.”
“We have to tell our parents?”
“First, yes,” Zoe said. “And then the cops. Tell them about the mannequin, and Shadow, and April. There’s no other way.”
“You think the others will agree?”
“You have to do it together, Janika. You’re all in it together.” That was the last thing Zoe had written to say. She wanted to hang up the phone before she said anything more, anything that might make Janika suspicious. “I’m sorry that you—” Zoe stopped herself. “Look, the sooner you do it, the sooner it’ll be over with.”
There was a long silence. Janika had stopped crying.
“Janika, are you there?”
“I’m here,” Janika whispered. “We’ll go tomorrow.”
snow
Simon knew of a café across the street from the police station that would be perfect to watch from. The Coffee Snob was still decorated for the holidays, sort of. The entrance was strung with lights, but red ones in the shape of chili peppers, green ones like cacti and yellow ones like cowboy hats. There was a tree, but it was a solstice tree, a sign on it said so, and it was decorated with anarchist symbols and peace signs twisted out of pipe cleaners, and little anti-Christmas manifestos written by various patrons on construction paper. The sole barista was curled up in an easy chair by an electric heater under a wall plastered with posters advertising political rallies and literary readings. He was reading Proust, which he reluctantly put down after Zoe, Leaf, Simon, Teo and April had been waiting at the counter for ages, eyes on the door to the kitchen, expecting someone to come from there. He rolled his eyes at the other customers, who all looked like they were doing downtime between anti-globalization protests.
“Help yourself next time you come, okay?” He made their coffees, walking them through how the espresso machine worked, and then he showed them how to work the till, which had a sticker on it that read, Karma kills short-changers.
There were no tables available by the window. At one, an elderly couple dressed in brown cords and matching thick wool sweaters played chess. At the other, a student was sluggishly highlighting an enormous college textbook.
“Excuse me, sir? Ma’am?” Simon approached the elderly couple after the student scowled at him when he got within five feet of her table. “We’re conducting a bit of a stake-out here, and we need to keep our eyes on the police station. Do you think—” before he could explain further, the couple pushed their chairs back and stood.
“Anything to keep thumbs on the pigs, son.” The man winked behind his wire-rimmed glasses, carefully lifting the board so the pieces wouldn’t slide. “We’ll sit over there.”
After two rounds of coffee the five of them were buzzing, barely able to sit still. They took turns watching for the Beckoners. Except for Simon, who could not sit still at all. He was making the rounds, dazzling the customers with his slick wit, sidling up to them with a smooth, “So what brings you here?” Soon, he had everyone gathered around their table, which they’d pushed together with the college student’s, who’d finally given up studying. Simon had everyone engulfed in a rowdy game of Go Fish using two decks the barista produced, one with Fidel Castro on the back, the other with nude fifties pin-up models. Even April was laughing, cheeks flushed, probably from all the caffeine and the space heater beside the table. When she smiled her eyes pinched up a little and she tilted her head to the side in a way that was almost cute.
The barista, Zoe was astonished to see, was definitely checking April out. Zoe wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, but when he came back with yet another tray of lattes, Tim hovered until Teo got up to pee, and then he swooped in and took Teo’s chair, which just happened to be the one beside April. In between his turns, Tim leaned on his elbows and took off his glasses and asked her questions, which she answered easily. It was as if that café, that humid, low-ceilinged stuffy room was a chrysalis, and April was transforming into a new version of herself right before Zoe’s eyes.
“Is that them?” Tim nodded at the window.
Zoe and the others rushed to the glass, their breath fogging it up. They wiped it clear and watched. Five cars. All the Beckoners, all at once, which was better than Zoe could’ve hoped for, complete with various attending adults, all with the same moist-eyed fury and shoulder-slumping disappointment.
Beck climbed out of the backseat of her parents’ car and stood on the sidewalk alone for a moment while the others were ushered into the station, parents gripping their children’s elbows. Beck watched her friends go ahead of her. April and Zoe watched Beck, noses to the glass like little kids watching the first snow fall. The others had stepped away and were talking behind them, voices hushed, as though Beck might hear all the way across the street, through the brick walls and thick glass.
In his travels around the café, Simon had told the story to everyone, and now they were united in rage and sympathy and angst, each of them reciting their own bullied histories with comraderie they’d normally reserve for protest highlights: paddy wagon moments, the first time they got hauled off to jail, bodies civil-disobediently limp, arms linked for peace.
Beck’s mother finally got out of the car. A small woman with an angular face, she stood on the sidewalk, clutching her purse strap tight with both hands. She stared at Beck’s back.
Beck’s father leaned across the interior of the car and rolled the passenger window down to say something to her mother. Beck’s mother looked away from her husband and Beck, down the sidewalk in the other direction, shaking her head at whatever he was saying. He raised his voice, craning his neck out the window to address Beck, who did not turn to receive his words. He hauled himself back in front of the wheel and took off, tires slashing through puddles.
Beck stood still as her mother passed her, chin up, still clutching her purse, hugging the side of the building like she didn’t want to get too close to her daughter. Then Beck was alone, eyes on the ground. She looked naked despite her down jacket, her scarf, her clunky winter boots, like she was a paper doll underneath: flat, flimsy, easily stripped.
That night Harris and Leaf built a bonfire on the beach at Mill Lake. Alice brought a bag of turkey sandwiches. Wish brought thermoses of hot chocolate. Simon and Teo brought marshmallows and slabs of chocolate and graham wafers to make s’mores. Tim brought cherry and almond biscotti. Zoe brought colored markers for everyone to si
gn April’s cast, which no one had thought to do yet. April brought Shadow’s ashes in a small cardboard box.
Barb and John did not believe that animals had souls, or could go to heaven, but they had agreed to pay for the cremation anyway. When the fire was down to embers, and Cassy and Connor were asleep on Harris’s and Wish’s laps, and Lewis had to fight to keep his eyes open, April hobbled to the water and let Shadow’s ashes scatter in the night. Zoe had brought one other thing from home—her travelling star. She shone a flashlight on it for a couple of minutes, and then walked with the boys down to the water. She threw the travelling star into the trail of ashes, where it floated and glowed, a bright star slipping away on the black water, as a gentle snow began to fall.