by Polen, Teri
The third article was what I’d been looking for. Four days after Sarah’s disappearance, construction workers reported finding blood at one of their building sites, and it didn’t belong to any of the employees. They hadn’t reported it earlier because, due to other concurrent projects, it was the first time in five days they’d been back to the site. Tests confirmed the blood was a match for Sarah’s DNA. The article went on to say there was no other evidence indicating if she’d been with someone or alone, and without any witnesses, it couldn’t be determined if the blood was from a major or minor injury. Something had been used to wipe it up, because blood was smeared across the floor, but whatever it was hadn’t been found.
A shudder ran through my body when I read the next paragraph, and my mouth dropped open. Sarah’s blood had been found in a corner of the attic.
I bet I knew which corner.
. . . . .
I spent the rest of the morning reading articles online and going through my old yearbooks. Like Mom said, the police had reached a dead end with the case and had exhausted all leads. There was no sign of Sarah and no one had come forward with any suggestions. Her parents were offering a reward for any information that could lead to her being located, dead or alive; they just wanted to know what had happened to her and find some closure.
There weren’t many pictures of Sarah in the yearbook. She didn’t seem to have been a very social person, only appearing in pictures of the honor society and science club. Anyway, all this needed to be put on the backburner for the time being. Finn would be here soon to pick me up and I needed to concentrate on the soccer game.
. . . . .
As awkward, uneasy, and generally oblivious as I was with girls, when I walked onto a soccer field, things were entirely different. This was what I knew. I’d been playing soccer since the age of four and it was love at first kick. My parents had always been supportive, hauling me around with travel teams when I was too young for the school team and also during the off season. Now I was captain and center forward, on my home field, and in my comfort zone. Nothing else existed for me during a game – I was completely focused on what happened within the white outlined grass rectangle with the other seventeen players on the field.
My mind began going through strategies, plays, and what I knew about the other team and their players. Their keeper was pretty good – not as good as Finn, but I’d have to be at the top of my game to get anything past him to score.
Finn and I always arrived at the games earlier than required so we could get in some extra warmup time. We’d been playing together for so long it always seemed as if we needed this time together to get in the right mindset. It was routine for us and some athletes were so superstitious they believed any variance from their routines would curse their game. That didn’t really describe us, but Finn was the best keeper in the league and, not to brag, but I’d made all-state the past three years, so warming up together challenged us, with me trying to get the ball past him and Finn contorting his body in all different manners to stop me.
While we stretched afterwards, I filled Finn in on what had happened last night in the attic and everything I’d learned from Mom and my research this morning.
“I don’t know, Cain, I mean, don’t you think you might be overreacting a little? So there was a cold spot in your attic. I’m no expert, but there’s probably a plausible explanation. The odds of it being some bizarre air flow problem are bound to be higher than the possibility of some teenage ghost girl living in your attic and giving you scalp massages while you sleep.”
“What about the blood they found in that same corner?”
“Dude, if someone leaving blood behind meant they’d return to haunt the place, don’t you think the hospitals would be overrun with ghosts?”
“Finn, we live in one of the most historical cities in the country. Word is, there are more ghosts walking the streets than people.”
“I love a good ghost story as much as the next guy, but remember when we hung out at the cemetery? It was a waste of time and the only thing we saw was a stray dog peeing on a gravestone – and that freaked you out. What makes you think this is any different?”
Yeah, that was me. After playing tourists and going on a ghost walk through Magnolia Cemetery, we’d gotten the bright idea to set up camp by the baby carriage tombstone, hoping to make contact with a spirit. The wispy clouds partially covering the full moon had made it a perfect night for grave watching, and we’d waited in the darkness beneath a towering oak tree draped with Spanish moss, convinced it was only a matter of time before the spirits emerged from their graves.
And the only reason the dog had scared me was because he’d sneaked up behind me and was kind of big. Maybe all I needed to do to meet a ghost was hang out in my own bedroom.
“What about the chair under the door?”
“You could have been sleeping deeper than you thought and I’ve seen Eby do worse than knock over a chair. That cat can be a monsoon of destruction when he gets going.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“So, get rid of the ball and chain yet?”
I stretched out on the grass, hands behind my head, facing away from the sun. “I don’t know what to say to her, Finn. I need to break up with her, but she’s so used to getting her way, she’d probably just tell me that wasn’t an option, buy me more clothes, and force me to watch another marathon of that vampire series.”
“It’s really not such a bad show, you know, if you can look past all those male model types. It’s got some hot girls,” he said, pushing his headband into place in an attempt to restrain his mop of chaotic hair. Lindsey’s comparison to Harry Potter’s had been pretty accurate.
“Still not worth it. No one ever dies on that show. They come back, turn into vampires, hybrids, it’s hard to keep up.”
“Dude, it’s a little scary you know that much about it. Are you sure you’re not into it?”
“Forget the vampires, alright? We need to focus on the real problem – Erin.”
“Cain, you knew what she was before you went out with her. So tell her the truth. It’s not you, it’s her. If she screams like a banshee or comes at you with those freaky pink claws of hers, you’ve got to stand your ground and take it like a man.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right,” I said, rubbing my face, then running my hands through my hair.
“Suck it up, my friend. She’s slowly killing your spirit. And she sure doesn’t like me. What’s up with that? I’m socially acceptable in most circles,” Finn said, a crooked grin on his face.
“You know, you’re not half as amazing as you think,” I said, squinting up at him.
“What’s not to love? Hey, I got a new shirt today – says ‘Free Hugs’ on the front and ‘Champion Slut Hugger’ on the back. You like?”
“I like,” I said, snorting. “Get one for me – maybe that will cause Erin to break up with me instead.”
“Is she coming to the game?”
“She never misses an opportunity to wear my jersey. I don’t get this whole social ladder thing and how I even rank. Who decides this and who, outside of her friends, gives a crap? But if you ask her who scored or even who won the game when it’s over, she won’t be able to tell you. She’ll probably just sit there with her friends and talk about shoes the whole time. At least I won’t have to deal with her.”
Enough with Erin. It was a fantastic day for a soccer game with a cloudless sky, gentle breeze, and swaying palm trees, the temperature in the mid-seventies, a miracle for Charleston, SC in September.
. . . . .
“And then when you kicked the ball between that other guy’s legs and went around him and got the ball again and scored, that was
just really cool!” Maddie, Mom, Finn, and I were rehashing the highlights of the game over the pizzas Mom had picked up for dinner. I’d used the excuse of Family Night and gotten out of going to the party with Erin. Since she’d gone to all the trouble of choosing the clothes I’d wear to the party, she’d screeched her displeasure with me, but I didn’t care. I was where I wanted to be. “And then when you kicked the ball a really long way and it went right over the guy’s head and into the net and scored again, that was even better!”
“Sounds like someone’s got a little bit of hero worship,” Mom muttered so Maddie couldn’t hear.
Finn reached over and yanked lightly on Maddie’s ponytail. “What about me, baby girl? I stopped a few balls today.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “Well, most of the time you just stand in the net and yell at the other players and tell them what to do. You’re not like Cain. He gets to score the goals and win the game for the team.”
“Yeah, Finn’s pretty useless most of the time, but just because he doesn’t score goals doesn’t mean he’s not helping the team, Maddie. If he didn’t keep the other team from scoring, we might not win the game.”
Maddie put her arms on the table and rested her chin in her hands, as if she were pondering that. “I guess that’s true, but you always seem to know exactly where to run and what to do and how to do it to score.”
Finn smirked. “Too bad you can’t do that off the field, Cain. From the mouths of babes and all that.”
Finn had me there. If handling my love life was as easy as playing soccer, I wouldn’t be stuck in this mess.
Chapter 6
Sunday was all mine. I’d been waiting for this day for weeks. The Terrace Theater was showing a horror movie marathon, including some of the old classics like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Night of the Living Dead, and some of the better newer movies, Sinister, Insidious, and the first Paranormal Activity. I’d asked Finn if he was interested, and he’s also a fan of horror movies, but keeping him confined for that amount of time went against the laws of nature. I’d never planned on asking Erin. For one thing, I’d never be able to enjoy myself and for another, she considered horror movies a waste of time. As opposed to shopping for more clothes today to add to her overflowing closet. Which wasn’t a waste of time at all. So I was on my own. Happily.
After stopping at concessions for a large buttered popcorn, a root beer, and chocolate chip cookie dough, I went to one of the smaller theaters to find the perfect seat. Not so close that I had to crane my neck, but not all the way in the last row either. The sweet spot was halfway back, middle of the row. I’d just gotten settled and dug my hand into the greasy goodness of the buttery popcorn, when someone leaned over the back of the seat beside me.
“So which movie are you most excited to see on the big screen? Texas Chainsaw or Night of the Living Dead?” she asked, her sandy blonde hair falling over the chair and brushing my arm. Her citrusy cinnamon smell was familiar and comforting, almost like coming home.
“Lindsey?” I asked, twisting in my seat so I could see her. “What are you doing here?”
“You mean this isn’t the chick-flick damsel in distress movie marathon?” she asked, her mouth falling open, feigning shock. “Same reason you’re here, I’m guessing. A love of horror movies. Can I sit with you or would it interfere with your viewing experience?”
Was this a trick question? “No.”
“No I can’t sit with you?”
“Yes. No! No, you won’t interfere with the movies and yes, you can definitely sit with me.”
“Ling and Emma were supposed to come with me, but when I invited them, I might have left out the part about this being a horror marathon. Anyway, when they found out, they decided to ditch me and go to that new indoor rock climbing place. Wimps. Anyway, here I am alone, with no date.”
A wide grin split my face as she climbed over the back of the chair and sat beside me. Whatever I did to deserve this was a mystery, but I planned to totally enjoy it. Could this day get any better?
. . . . .
Seeing the older movies on the big screen was a real treat, but experiencing this with the horror fangirl beside me was even better. Besides being knowledgeable about the flicks themselves, Lindsey also knew her movie etiquette and didn’t interrupt or ask questions during the showings, something I really appreciated.
After the last movie, we walked a few doors down to Zia Taqueria. Since the music was a little too loud inside, we got a table outside in the balmy, slightly breezy evening.
“I can’t believe I never knew you liked horror movies.”
“It never came up, I guess,” Lindsey said, scooping a healthy amount of salsa onto her tortilla chip.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Erin had always felt the need to fill every minute with mindless babbling, most of which I tuned out.
Lindsey’s hand inched across the table to cover mine. “I didn’t know you when we first moved here last year, and I’ve wanted to say this for a while, but I know what happened with your dad, and I’m really sorry. I can’t imagine going through anything like that.”
Her hand was so warm and small compared to mine, but strong, probably from playing the cello. Taking a deep breath and hoping my palms weren’t too sweaty, I turned my hand over to hold hers. And she didn’t pull away.
“Thanks. It was hard and still is some of the time. I mean, I still miss him every day and I don’t think my Mom will ever completely get over his death, but I feel sorrier for my sister Maddie. I had seventeen years with him, but she only got seven and I wonder if she’ll still remember him in ten years.”
“You and your Mom will help her remember if she forgets. There are probably pictures and videos too, right?”
I smiled, remembering how my parents had always been big on taking pictures and recording both important and everyday family moments. Our house was covered with pictures and although it had hurt at first seeing Dad in so many frames, happy and enjoying his family, now they brought back warm, good memories. “Yeah, we’ve got a lot to show her. I try to do some of the things with her that he always did, like reading to her before bedtime and building Legos. She’s kind of clumsy and doesn’t have any interest in sports or girly things, like dolls, but she’s got an incredible imagination and builds things I’d never think of.”
Lindsey squeezed my hand. “It sounds like you really love her. I think that’s sweet.”
I ducked my head and stared at her through a strand of hair that had fallen out of my leather tie. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool. But I feel like I’m all they’ve got now, and I need to take on what I can of my Dad’s responsibilities. With Mom being a realtor, she’s got some crazy hours sometimes, and Finn helps out when he can.”
“Cain, I’ve never met your Mom, but from what you’ve told me about her, I’m sure she doesn’t expect you to take your Dad’s place and, although I’m sure she appreciates you helping with Maddie, she would want you to live your life and be a teenager.”
“Are you sure you’ve never met her?” I asked, tucking the strand of hair behind my ear with the hand that wasn’t holding hers. “That’s almost exactly what she told me a couple of nights ago.”
Lindsey looked down at our hands and opened her mouth to say something, but the waiter arrived with our shrimp tacos. Whatever she’d been about to say, the moment had passed and since we both needed to eat, I reluctantly let go of her. At that moment, I wished more than anything that I was free to hold her hand whenever I wanted, but knew as long as Erin was technically still my ‘girlfriend’, it wasn’t a possibility. But it sure was an incentive.
. . . . .
When I got home that evening, I read the next chapter of
The Prisoner of Azkaban to Maddie. We’d just gotten to the part where Harry discovered Sirius was his godfather, and Maddie gasped out loud.
Once I kissed her goodnight and Mom tucked her in, I stopped in the kitchen to feed Eby, made sure all the doors were locked and lights were off, then went to my bedroom to finish the next chapter of Gone With the Wind. I’d much rather be reading Harry Potter.
As soon as I flicked on the light, I froze and felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Strange things had been going on in my room today during my absence.
The attic door was open again, which was pretty routine lately, but my posters had been ripped from the walls and were lying on the floor, along with some PS4 discs that had been torn from their plastic cases. Thankfully, they were all still intact. The posters were inexpensive, but I had hundreds of dollars invested in the games.
If I’d had a brat sister with no sense of boundaries, that’s who I’d look to first, but I knew Maddie hadn’t done this. She had several PS4 Lego games, Jurassic World her current favorite, and they were also scattered around the room.
I wasn’t a psychologist, but even I understood these were the actions of someone seeking attention. What had it been like when Sarah was trashing my room – even more than it already was? Did it look like an invisible force had been unleashed and was bent on destruction? Or was she more of an opaque entity? Then my gut twisted and I slumped against the doorway. What if Maddie had come in here to play video games or Mom had been putting away laundry during all the havoc? Would they have been just an obstacle in Sarah’s path? Would she have hurt them? Was that even a possibility?
Forget Finn’s logical explanation rationale. I needed to come up with a way to make contact with Sarah, or whoever was trying to communicate with me.