Leftover Girl

by Bolick, C. C.

  “Don’t leave this house,” she’d said, as if people were lining up to claim me. Where did she think I’d go?

  After peeking through the blinds, I entered Mom and Dad’s room in search of the box. My ears strained for any movement as I dug through the closet, each item ironed, placed in order of color, and every plastic container evenly marked. I collapsed to my knees next to the bed, pulling up the flowered dust ruffle. Plush carpet spread before me, a garden of fibers smoothed in the same direction.

  Like a kid who just received tofu instead of pudding, I returned to my bedroom and again tried the book. Fifteen pages of worry free reading wasn’t an extreme request, but a week of ACTs seemed easier.

  I climbed into bed and pulled the comforter tight around my body. Darkness filled the air around me, except for light reaching through the seams. Cursing myself for leaving the light on, I considered rising, but a noise from downstairs froze every thought. Even thuds sounded across the floor below.

  My first thought was of panic. A fear of someone breaking in had always haunted me, though crime in Credence was almost nonexistent. How could I face off against an intruder? I knew Dad kept a shotgun and exactly which corner it called home. He’d plainly said ‘hands off’ unless he was with me. Another sound below. Was that the fridge opening?

  Alone. I was alone for the first time ever, at least for the first time since I’d lived with Mom and Dad. I hugged the comforter tighter while trying to convince myself Mom must have come back.

  The steps crossed the floor again, then silence. I eased from the bed, tossing the comforter aside and nearly crawling down the stairs. The last of my fears dissolved as I stuck my head inside the kitchen, every light aglow.

  “Hey,” I called, expecting Mom’s brown hair to rise above the fridge door, but it wasn’t her eyes that met mine. “What are you doing?”

  Chase grinned, reaching for a salad left from lunch. “Checking out your fridge. Is that not cool?” He looked up and the grin faded. “I thought we were friends.”

  “We are, but you can’t just show up in my house. It’s not cool to scare me like that.”

  “Come on, I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

  “You could have called. Don’t you have phones on Mars or wherever it is you’re from?” My eyes swept the windows. “What if my family found you in here?” I turned for the stairs, throwing my hands in the air. “Leave the way you came.”

  He jumped in front of me, holding up both hands. “We don’t have phones exactly and I’m not from Mars. And you’re alone, so I can’t get you in trouble. Your mom’s next door with Danny and Collin.”

  “You’ve been watching me?” I remembered the day at Save All and cringed. “Like how you followed me last week?”

  “I’ve been watching you since before the lights came back on. That’s how I knew you were alone.” He swallowed. “Your dad isn’t here either.”

  “My dad’s still in Tokyo.” I fought a laugh with the image of Dad’s face after a surprise entrance. “Don’t you have stalkers where you’re from?”

  Chase smiled, though much more reserved. “I believe I understand.” He followed me into the living room, but didn’t settle on the couch next to me. “Where are all the pictures? Humans always have pictures of themselves.”

  I considered the empty walls surrounding our living room. Well, not exactly empty. There were paintings of a beach, bronze framed mirrors, and shelves lined with candles. “Mom has pictures, somewhere I’m sure. She buys our school pictures every spring and fall.”

  “But she doesn’t hang them for people to see? Don’t you think that’s strange?”

  “Maybe she’s not into the whole picture thing.” I tried to recall Mom hanging pictures in any of the places we stayed long enough to get unpacked. Had she even bothered to pack the pictures when we left? “How many pictures are hanging at your house?”

  “None,” he said.

  “Then what’s the big deal?”

  “We’re not human.”

  I rolled my eyes, wanting to argue, but unable to shake the feeling Chase had made an important observation. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  Mischief formed in Chase’s eyes. “Why don’t we talk somewhere else?”

  “I can’t leave, I’m grounded. Mom would kill me.”

  “Not if she doesn’t know.”

  “Oh, she’ll know if I leave. That woman has some kind of radar on me. I thought it was bad before I skipped school.”

  “Obviously she cares about you. Trust me, Jes, I’m an expert when it comes to moms. I have the strictest mom ever, but I still get away with sneaking out. I came prepared.” He smiled as a glowing square appeared in his hand. “This will let us know when they return.”

  Chase planted the device at our front door and took my hand. “I have something to show you.”

  I closed my eyes and heard the rush of water. The breeze on my face felt like a cooler of ice had fallen from the sky and smothered my frustration. One breath. Two breaths. I opened my eyes to moonlight across the creek. “How did you know?”

  Chase stood beside me, staring across the water. “From the drawing you made, I could tell this place is special for you.”

  With a smile, I spun, taking in glitter someone spilled on the rocks, a whirlpool calling to my feet, and the scent of pine trees brimming like syrup on pancakes. “I thought you were scared of water.”

  “You notice I’m not standing close to the edge.” He laughed weakly. “You would love a place with water. When Mom brought home the drawing, I spent half the night trying to find this place.”

  “I thought you were sick.” Without thinking, I flung my arms around Chase’s neck.

  “I wasn’t sick,” Chase said, returning the pressure against his arms.

  For the next half-hour, we explored the creek under the safety of our nightlight. Chase talked of his planet, mixing English with words and fancy names I tried to understand, mostly in vain, but I did get the fact there was no moon.

  “Night is usually less than six hours of darkness. Golvern is half the size of Earth and covered with almost ninety percent water, but it turns slower. Most land is located opposite the glacial edge at what you might consider Earth’s North Pole, though our planet is not polarized in the same way. The top always reaches for our suns—yeah we’ve got two—and people live in the warmth of summer all year.”

  “I don’t know if I could live through a year of Alabama summers.”

  “Golvern is never as hot as Alabama or as cold as New York. Less land, less people, less darkness. What else?”

  “You said six hours of darkness, but how long is a day?”

  “Same as yours.”

  “I find it hard to believe that two random planets have the same number of hours in a day.”

  “Not just the same day, but the same number of days in a year.”

  “You’re all about science. Explain how that can possibly make sense.”

  “Easy. Your planet copied ours, which is why the timing doesn’t work exactly. You still have to add a day every four years. Now, ask me a hard one.”

  “I remember you don’t like the sun.”

  “The radiation from Golvern’s suns combined is weaker than Earth’s.”

  “Then our sun is harmful to you?”

  “It’s deadly to me.”

  “But if the sun is tragic bad, why come here?”

  “Yeah, it’s tough. No one from our planet can survive on Earth more than a few years without going home for treatment.”

  Would he ignore my question? “How many years?”

  “I don’t know, maybe three.”

  “You’re sure?”

  He nodded and looked back at the water, eyes glossy in the moonlight.

  No way could I let Chase know how this new information unsettled me. With memories of living on Earth for at least eleven years, any chance of being from Chase’s planet shifted to impossible. I remembered Mrs. Pearson’s words about
the planet ‘killing him’, words that existed only in a dream. Then I thought of the day Chase missed school. He’d never said anything about Earth hurting him before, but now I understood his fear from the day we stood in the sun. “What happens when you go home?”

  “There’s a treatment for the radiation. It’s called regeneration.”

  “That sounds freaky.”

  “Regeneration pulls the radiation from our skin.”

  “Why not get treated on Earth?”

  Chase shrugged. “I guess we could, but it’s safer on Golvern. Recovery is ten days of darkness. Besides, Mom has to go back. Lots of people depend on her.”

  “Don’t tell me she teaches there too.”

  His lips formed a small, secret smile. “Not exactly.”

  After silence from Chase, I turned the conversation to intense convincing, and he took us to the top of a rock formation marking the highest point of the creek. Below us, water crashed on smooth rocks and split in all directions. Clouds began to move across the moon, causing a disappearing act for the sparkles along the water’s surface.

  “I told you it would be awesome up here,” I said.

  “It doesn’t feel awesome. What if we fall? I’ve never been able to swim.”

  “Why are you afraid with all of your powers?”

  “I don’t have all the power you think. And when I’m scared, my powers don’t always work.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not afraid of the water.” I took his hand in mine, tight to stop the shaking.

  He fell silent again and I shivered. Jumping from the rocks flashed in my head and I wondered just how deep the water below might be. Did nerve form the thought, or was it unhappiness with my life rushing back in a flood? The power from knowing I could jump with no one to stop me felt confusing. At the same time, I was powerless to change the storm of heartache surrounding me.

  Chase placed his other hand over mine, sandwiching my fingers between his. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’ll promise to keep your secrets.”

  “I have days when I love my life and days when I hate it.”

  “What could be so bad about your life?”

  “Sometimes I feel like I don’t belong here.”

  “Here on this planet or here in this town…or here with me?”

  Did I imagine he asked the last part carefully, as if afraid I might say yes? “I guess I’ve never felt right anywhere for long.”

  “When was the last time you were happy?”

  I thought hard for a truthful answer. “Probably the night I went to the fair.”

  “Fair?” he asked.

  “You know, rides and games and stuff.”

  “I know, but you surprised me. How could the fair make you happy?”

  Pade, I wanted to say. “Haven’t you ever been?”

  Chase laughed, this time amused. “We don’t have fairs back home.”

  Okay, let him laugh. “Maybe you should.”

  “Maybe.” Chase stood, confidence showing in his smile for the first time that night. “Yes, I think maybe we should.” He held out a hand and helped me to my feet. “How about now?”

  I gave a muffled laugh. “I hate to tell you this, but the fair only comes to Credence once a year.”

  “Then we’ll just have to find it.”

  * * * * *

  The excitement of the fair felt exactly as I remembered, even in another state. Chase convinced me to ride every ride, a feat no one else had accomplished. Music and food flowed through the air as we walked the midway. No one was watching. No one was judging. I wanted to run as fast as my feet could manage and scream.

  “You feel it too?” he asked.

  The excitement crashed as heat burned in my cheeks. “What?”

  “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I can feel the rush of this place. I know why you wanted to come here.”

  “I’ve never been away from everyone I know like this. My parents would freak if they could see me.”

  “Mom wouldn’t be happy either, not with all the danger you…” he began, but hit the brakes fast.

  “Danger?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said, in full reverse.

  “But you said…”

  “Sorry, it’s just that Mom is…well, she worries a lot.”

  I summoned all of my courage. “Why are you and your mom in Credence?”

  “We’re here to find someone.”

  A certain list of names flashed in my head. “Who?”

  He looked away. “I’ve already said more than I should.”

  “Why Credence?”

  “Because we failed in New York. Next you’ll ask why New York and I’ll say that’s where the trail ended.”

  I decided to take a chance. “You couldn’t find her.”

  “No,” Chase said. “That is…” His eyes lit up. “How did you know?”

  “I guessed.”

  “Oh.” The excitement disappeared from his voice. “I thought maybe you had a reason.”

  My mind was running about a dozen scenarios, but none quite fit. “What about your friend in New York?”

  “Lauren?”

  “Is she from your planet?”

  “No, I just thought she was…”

  “Thought she was who?”

  Chase sighed. “Do you really have no idea who I am?”

  “Your name isn’t Chase?”

  “Actually, it’s Chadsworth.”

  “I can see why you want to be called Chase.”

  “Mom hates calling me Chase.”

  We continued our walk down the midway in silence, passing row after row of games. I wanted to ask Chase more questions than days I’d been late for the semester, but none seemed right.

  “We’ll be leaving soon. How do…” Chase grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop. “How do you feel about going home with me?”

  “Credence is my home.”

  “But not always. I bet you even lived in New York.”

  “Yeah, but only for a little while.”

  “I knew it.” He released my arm and spun, throwing his arms into the air. “She was lost in New York.”

  “Chase, my real parents abandoned me.”

  He stopped celebrating and grabbed my shoulders, pulling my face close to his. “How can you be sure? Do you remember them?”

  “I don’t remember anything before my adoption.” The words felt like a lie, but the dreams seemed more like scenes from a movie I watched long ago.

  “Come back with me and I’ll help you remember.”

  Wrenching free, I pushed him away. “I can’t just leave; my parents would freak.” So would the twins and Bailey, maybe even Pade.

  “They’re not your real parents.”

  “But they’re my family.” After saying the words, I felt the gravity of a connection strong enough to keep my feet on Earth. My head was swimming, ready to explode. Fortunately, we had reached an end to the lights and noise.

  Chase was the first to notice a small shack set apart from the last row of games. “What is that?”

  “Our fortune teller,” said a passing man with a spider web of tattoos down both arms, who reeked of the night’s heat.

  “Come on,” Chase said. “Let’s check it out.”

  “I don’t believe in any of that stuff. Seeing the future is crazy. Even you said it wasn’t possible.”

  “It’s not possible for me, but there are people with that power on Golvern.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’ve heard someone tell the future and what they said came true?”

  “I hope so.” His voice was sharp. “We call them Olsandyols.”

  “In English, please.”

  “Olsandyol is made of three words.”

  “The first part is old?” I waited for his nod. “Old as in more than one hundred?”

  “Old as in wise. Sand as in the particles that flow through an hourglass. Dial as in the controller of time. All three words can be found in English, but were connected with our la
nguage through visits to Earth made more than a thousand years ago.”

  “And you believe what this old sand person said?”

  “Did you believe people could move things with their minds before we met?”

  “I never even thought about meeting someone from another planet, forget being zapped around. What’s your point?”

  “My point is you’ve got to hear your future before you’ll believe. What’s the harm in us checking out Earth’s version of an Olsandyol?”

  The shack sagged to the right, as if drawn by a magnet to the little pond. Dark wood, weathered with splinters, held up the rusted metal roof. Plastic had been forced into the gap where the wood didn’t quite reach the roof, a continuous flow of balled-up grocery bags. I expected a red sign flashing danger, or the words ‘fall hazard’ in huge letters. Instead, a board above the door reading ‘Super Swami Mike’ loomed as if outlined in crayon.

  “Bill,” a woman said, pushing through the door, “I’ve heard enough rubbish for one night. Imagine it—I’ll be rich beyond my wildest dreams. That’s almost as bad as me getting married to some pervert. Did I really pay twenty dollars to hear that unoriginal nonsense?”

  The man behind her nodded and pressed his lips into a lazy smile, eyes dancing. As we passed, those eyes met mine and worked the slow length of my body. Chills shot down my spine as I realized the man was checking me out. An urge to cough up a polish sausage and half a funnel cake followed the chills when I considered his age had to be approaching Dad’s.

  We entered the dark room, hazy with purple smoke that had no odor. I expected wrinkled hands brooding over a crystal ball. Instead, a man held up one finger, insisting we wait. He finished checking his phone before waving us to the round table. Candles illuminated our path, each glowing at a glass tip. I lowered into one of two cracked wooden chairs, afraid of finding myself on the floor.

  He waved away smoke that drifted between us. “I am Super Swami Mike, here to tell your future.”

  As Mike peered into my eyes, I failed entirely at holding back a smile. “You are searching for someone,” he boomed.

  Too bad he picked me for that line and not Chase. “I don’t believe anyone can see the future.” I turned to Chase. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t working for me.”