“Aunt Sianne’s.”
If I could gulp, I would. “But she’s mental! Can’t we go to your friend’s house?”
“This is a family matter.” Gabby throws over her shoulder as she tears down the hallway like a whirlwind. She goes into her room and pulls out random items of clothing, shoving them into her backpack. “Could you get my toothbrush, please?”
I jump from her head, the forced landing enough to make my ankles squeak, but not enough to break, and hurry into the bathroom across the hall. With ease born of habit, I climb the sink on the rope ladder Gabby made me, then stumble on the drawers.
Her toothbrush is about the same height as me, so it’s awkward to carry out. When I return, Gabby’s staring at a photograph of the four of us at the Great Barrier Reef. I remember she spent weeks sewing a scuba suit for me, just so I felt included.
“Are you ready?”
Gabby flinches when I speak, pulling her gaze away from the photo. “Yeah.” She grabs the toothbrush and picks me up, her actions a lot swifter and rougher than usual. “You find anything in there?”
I pause. “No. The bathroom was just like normal.” I’m no good at lying, but Gabby is too flustered to notice. I don’t know why I didn’t tell her. Maybe, because her dad is a medical scientist, just like the professor, so the whole thought of intruders stealing meds just seems like an unnecessary stress.
Before Gabby leaves what was once our home, she puts out two big bowls of cat food and water, ‘just in case’.
Gabby doesn’t shut the front door behind us. I guess she’s not ready to close the chapter on Jupes and her parents just yet.
abby wheezes as we loiter on Sianne’s porch. She sounds like an asthmatic, but I’ve never seen her with an inhaler.
I can’t see her face in the darkness, only her silhouette which sways as she bites her nails. Sianne is always too wrapped up in her experiments to replace the lightbulbs in her house, so that would explain why no lights are on. Her house used to belong to the professor, but when he moved out, she took permanent residence.
The door unlatches, and creaks open just enough for Sianne’s dark eyes to peer through the gap.
“They’ve come, haven’t they?” her voice is raspy, like she hasn’t spoken in days. She swings the door wide open, revealing her tattered lab coat and wild red hair. It was purple only weeks ago, so she’s either dyed it or an experiment blew up in her face again.
Gabby instinctively rushes towards Sianne for a hug, but she pushes her away.
“Infected! Infected!”
“What?” Gabby sniffs. “Aunt Sianne, you of all people! I’ve been cured for years! They eradicated the epidemic. Not that it was that much of an epidemic anyway… stupid media…”
Sianne widens one eye and squints the other. “So they say. They say lots of things, when really, nobody knows nothing.”
“Please let us in,” I say, terminally and permanently bored of Sianne’s suspicions and muddled accent. “Pam and Jason have gone missing. We have nowhere to go.”
“Kidnapped more like, yes.” Sianne pauses. “Jason was on the verge of a medical breakthrough, independently, of course. His old company wouldn’t have liked that. He’s probably dead, dead, lost his head.” She crams her fist into her mouth and smiles.
At least, she retains enough decency to motion for us to follow her inside. Rather than using a torch to navigate through the dark, she carries a lantern, probably bought on eBay.
Other than that, nothing much has changed since we lived here. The walls are still part floral, part mauve and the furniture hasn’t altered from its post-1970’s shabby chic. Only now, it’s even more genuinely shabby.
“Have you eaten?” Sianne drags out the dining chairs across from the kitchen. Her slippers slide on the tiles like ice when she pulls out three bowls and cereal.
“No.”
“I don’t need to eat, remember, Sianne?” I arrange myself on the grubby placemat that hasn’t seen water and rag for God knows how long.
“Nonsense!” She spills the milk over the counter, pouring the entire carton into one bowl. “Ella, you must eat! You’re skin and bones! A girl your age should not be that small!”
“I’m a doll.”
“You’re succumbing to peer pressure.” She plops the bowl in front of me; it’s big enough for me to swim in.
My eyebrow squeaks when it raises. I glance at Gabby, who reluctantly nibbles on her cereal, staring into space.
I slump my shoulders and decide to amuse Sianne. I pick up one of the cereal grains and pretend to bite into it, the way parents do with plastic food to appease their children. “Mmm!”
“Wonderful!” Sianne grins, taking a seat next to Gabby. She sticks one finger in her ear and shakes it around. “So to what do I owe the pleasure? It’s not like you interrupted me. Not like I was doing anything important. Not like I was working on bringing the dead back to life. No, not at all. Who couldn’t love family who visits unannounced, eats my food, takes up my spare time, and who will, no doubt, use up all of the hot water?”
“Sianne, stop. You know we’re here because Jason and Pam are missing. You need to call the professor for us. The number Gabby has in her cell was disconnected.” I anxiously tap the bowl. “We haven’t seen him for years, and he needs to know what happened to his son. He’s buddy-buddy with big-deal corporations now, I’m sure he could hire the best detectives. Or something.”
I peek at Gabby from the corner of my eye, but she remains expressionless.
“Missing? Well, why didn’t you say! Oookay! Mind you, I haven’t used the telephone for a while! Still, I’m sure Daniel would love to speak with his granddaughter and her height-impaired, anorexic friend.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes only because Sianne hurries to the phone and dials a number. She puts it on loudspeaker and sits it in the center of the table. Clasping her hands together, she leans in, a perpetual smile on her face.
It rings three times.
And another three.
And three more.
“Isn’t the anticipation thrilling?” Sianne warbles, moving her hands around like a magician.
“Not really,” I grumble, losing all hope of the professor answering.
“Granted, it would be awkward if I dialed the wrong number…”
There’s a crackle on the other end, followed by a few thumps. Someone breathes heavily.
“Hello?” they answer.
Gabby frowns. “Grandpa? Is that you?”
The voice takes a while to respond. “Gabby! My dear, how’ve you been?”
I mimic Gabby’s frown and walk closer to the phone. “Are you sick?”
“Ella, is that you?” Is it the connection, or is his voice higher than usual? “Not sick, my dear, just overworked! Are you well?”
“No.” And just like that, I’ve begun to stage-whisper. “Jason and Pam have gone missing. Gabby and I are at Sianne’s. We don’t know what to do.”
“Have you called the police?”
“Not yet, but we’ll call Devin’s dad directly. He’s the best cop in town.”
The professor pauses. “I see…” There’s another crackle. “Perhaps it’s time I paid you girls a visit.”
Gabby jumps from her seat. “Really? Honestly? I miss you so much!”
“As do I, sweetheart. I’ll aim for the tomorrow afternoon train if your Aunt Sianne can meet me at the station?”
We look at Sianne, but she folds her arms and shakes her head. “Trains, trains, feigning rain. Chugga, chugga, chu! Chugga, chugga, chu!”
“In English, Sianne?”
“The trains that speed forth into tunnels, their grinds and gears enough to stun all. They cannot be trusted in the darkness and silence, you’ll never get the chance to cry out once.”
“As nonsense as that is, I have to admire your ability to improvise a poem.” Gabby’s a lot brighter now she’s speaking with the professor. “Grandpa, Ella and I will pick you up tomorrow. Are yo
u sure you can’t come tomorrow morning? We really need you.”
“No!” he snaps, followed by a pregnant pause. “I mean, I won’t be ready then. It has to be the afternoon.”
“Oh.” Gabby speaks with restrained outrage. “What time, then?”
“Ah,” a computer mouse clicks on the other end of the line, “I can do the 3:00 p.m.? Will school be finished by then?”
“Yeah, but screw school. I need a break.”
“Gabby, no.” The professor sounds panicked. “It’s vital that you go to school. You can’t afford to miss one lesson or to have one bad grade! Do you understand?”
Gabby bites her tongue, literally, and scrunches up her nose. “Whatever.”
“Sorry? What did you just say?”
“I mean, we can’t wait to see you. We’ll find my parents, won’t we?”
“We’ll do everything in our power,” he soothes. Fat load of help that is! “Please try to rest, love. It’s no doubt been an exhausting day for all of you. Don’t call the police just yet, wait for me to get there.”
Relief spreads across Gabby’s face. “Thanks, Grandpa.”
The professor grunts. “Indeed. Sleep sweet, angels.”
“Bye!” I call, but he’s already hung up. Well, that was the shortest phone call in the history of ever. What’s up with him?
“He’s probably just very busy,” Gabby says, as if reading my mind. “But he’ll be here tomorrow!”
“He’s acting weird!” I rise on my tiptoes to make a point. “He’s been brainwashed by that company, see if he’s not.”
“Yes, and you’re just totes jumping to conclusions.” She smiles, but I can tell she’s annoyed. So am I. She always plays the devil’s advocate—and she knows that even though I jump to conclusions quickly, I do often get it right.
“Fine.” I smooth out my tutu and stretch. “Is it time for bed? We have school tomorrow.”
Sianne gasps dramatically, her hand getting caught in her tangled hair when she strokes it. “School? The prison! The brainwashing cult!” She breathes in, but doesn’t breathe out. “Have fun.”
“Could we stay in Jason’s old room?” Gabby gently pushes the bowl of cereal away.
That’s it. I’ve had it with her petulance and stubbornness. “Stop calling him Jason! He’s not even here, so why do you insist on disrespecting him?”
“Because if I act like he’s not here, then it means I’ve accepted the fact he’s not coming back!” Gabby stares me down, her eyes filling with tears. I don’t know how she manages to keep them from rolling down her cheeks.
“Sorry,” I whisper after a tense silence. I glance at Sianne, who purses her lips.
“Well, this is mighty awkward. I don’t care where you sleep; just don’t bother me in the morning. My anime-inspired-yogga starts at dawn and lasts until midday. I need complete concentration.”
“What’s anime-inspired-yoga?”
“It’s pronounced yogga.”
I hesitate. “No, it’s definitely yoga.”
Sianne dismisses me with a hand flourish. “Anime-inspired-yogga is my own creation. You pose as characters from classic series. If I were to do the Charizard, I would do this.” She stands from her chair and squats slightly, raising her clawed hands in the air and opening her mouth. “Then, if I were to do the Sailor Moon, I’d do this.” Sianne makes a circle with her hands around her chest and spins in attempted slow motion. When she stops, she leans on the chair to regain focus. “Whoof! Dizzy. But that’s just a taste. Pretty good, huh?”
I try so hard not to laugh, but Sianne doesn’t make it easy. “It’s pretty amazing.”
Next to me, Gabby has gone red with breathless laughter. She clutches her tummy and finally manages to catch her breath, only to burst into a fit of hysterics. Sianne may be crazy, but at least she makes us laugh. And right now, that’s the best gift she can give us.
here’d you get that money?” I sit across from Gabby at Denny’s.
I love Denny. He turned a seedy nightclub into a family-friendly cafe. The once-tarnished floorboards are now gray tiles and the walls have been painted a midnight blue, with a large moon and the yellow words ‘DENNY’S DASH’. The tables remind me of stars, because they’re all covered in sparkly silver cloths. He’s really good to Gabby too and often gives her free milkshakes. He’s in his thirties and is a single dad. His daughter has Down’s syndrome and Gabby often spends time with her after school. Denny likes it when Gabby talks to his daughter—probably because it’s unnerving watching her talk to a doll all day.
“I took it from Sianne’s swear jar before she woke up.” Gabby bites into a pie, and I cringe when the sauce runs down her chin. “There were a lot of quarters.”
“That’s stealing!”
“Is not! It’s borrowing. Besides, she’s my guardian now, she has to feed me.”
Hmm. She has a point, but I don’t like it, so I change the subject. “Why haven’t we called the police about your parents yet?”
“Because Grandpa said not to.”
Oh, Gabby. Please don’t speak with your mouth full. “Don’t you think that’s strange?”
Gabby shrugs. “I trust him. He hasn’t steered us wrong, yet.”
“But he sounded different last night! And we haven’t heard from him in ages.”
“You know he’s been busy. Besides, we’re picking him up this afternoon. We can ask him what’s been going on then.”
“He’s changed, Gabby! I can feel it.”
“You can’t feel anything; you’re a doll,” she says flippantly. That hurts… figuratively speaking.
I wait for Gabby to apologize, but it doesn’t look like she has any intention. Teenagers suck. “We’re going to be late for school. You have sauce on your chin, by the way.”
Gabby gulps down what’s left of the meat pie and wipes her hands on a napkin. She pulls out her phone and sits it on the table to check the time. “Oh wow, we’re already late. Lemme wash up in the bathroom, and we’ll go.”
She stands to leave, bumping into other customers on the way. When she’s out of sight, I crawl over to the phone, then freeze, contemplating the consequences of my next action. There isn’t much time, so it’s now or never.
I press three numbers and wait for the answer.
“Hello, 9-1-1?”
“What’s your emergency, please?” the woman on the other ends asks.
“I… this sounds really weird, but I have reason to suspect an attack at the train station this afternoon.”
“Are you in danger yourself, now? What is your address? We will send a car—”
“No, no, I’m telling you, it’s this afternoon—”
“Of course, Miss. Please, calm down. Are you reporting credible information—”
“Not really, no. It’s just… a feeling, I guess.”
“Miss, you need to elaborate. Is this a terrorist attack?”
I pause. “Yes. Yes, it’s a terrorist attack. With bombs and everything. The police need to be there.”
“Miss, we—”
Panicked, I hang up. I shouldn’t have called from Gabby’s cell. What if they ring back? I bite my fingers and stare at the phone—but not before deleting the call log.
Gabby returns, wiping her hands on her jeans. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Ghost?” I squeak. “What ghost? Nope. No ghost! Everything is peachy.”
Lies are just words, right?
The diner bell rings, and a skinny woman in a plain black hoodie sidles in. Gabby can’t stop staring at her. She swallows hard and slowly clenches her fists.
The woman turns to look at us, her dark hair covering half her face. She smiles, but more with her eyes, kind of like a cat. She steps closer, refusing to break eye contact. She’s young. Like college age young. “Hi, Gabby. Hi, Ella. Long time no see. How’ve you been?”
Gabby lifts me and places me in her lap, so I can barely see our visitor over the table.
&nb
sp; “What are you doing here?” Gabby snaps.
“Ease up. I’m not a doll anymore. It’s not like I’m going to go all psycho and try to break you. It was all a big misunderstanding, right? I’m just here to visit my uncle for the day. He works at the school. Speaking of which, why aren’t you there?”
“None of your business, Lisa.”
Lisa? Now why does that name ring a bell?
The young woman shrugs. “Hey, you can’t blame a girl for trying to strike up a conversation. Hate me all you want, Gabs. I’m not the bad guy anymore.” She pauses, a large grin spreading across her face. “But I know who is.”
Denny approaches her with a notepad in hand. “Hey. Are you here to order anything?”
“No thanks,” Lisa says, still intently watching Gabby. “Just thought I’d check out the town. A lot has changed… and at the same time… nothing has changed at all…” She taps her earlobe, then dramatically turns on her heel and leaves.
“Sheesh. You get some weirdos come in,” Denny mumbles, closing his notepad and ambling back to the counter.
As Gabby clutches onto me, I desperately try to peer over the table to catch a better glimpse of whoever this was. “Gabby? Who was that?”
“Just a bad memory,” she mutters. “Just a very bad memory.”
“What’s wrong?” I frown.
“Ella, there’s something I want to tell you about your past.”
“Nope.” I block my ears and shake my head. “You told me I went psycho and ended up horrible when I found out about my past last time. I can’t be a horrible person, Gabby. Never again. If that means never knowing, then so be it.”
“But Lisa…”
“I don’t want to be that person again…” I say quietly, fighting the urge to cry. “I have dreams of the lab, Gabby. I sometimes see what I became… how I treated the people around me. Deep down, I know they’re not dreams. They’re memories. The selfless thing to do… is to forget.”
“But you chose the selfish road, Ella.” Gabby bites her lip. “I don’t want to hurt you, so I’ll shut up.” Her face twists, like she can’t hold back what she wants to say. “Okay, I’ll shut up after this. Choosing to become a doll was the wrong choice. You shouldn’t have done that to your family.”
Shattered Girls (Broken Dolls Book 2) Page 3