by Elbel, Joy
“Zach convinced me that there was a chance that Jeremy was my son’s father—and that you’d known that all along.”
“What? Why would he say that? Or better yet, why would you believe that? Even if you didn’t trust me, you trust Sophie don’t you?”
“I know—it sounds kind of crazy now even to me but you weren’t there. You didn’t see how convincing he was. So he said one other thing to me that I hope isn’t true either. If I ask you a question, do you swear to tell me the truth? Scout’s honor?”
“Scout’s honor,” I replied with conviction. “No matter what you ask, I’ll be completely honest.”
“Okay—here goes. Are you now or have you ever cheated on Zach with Lucas or anyone else?”
“Of course not! Why would he tell you that I did?”
“I don’t know, Ruby. But he’s definitely messed up. He acts like he loves you wholeheartedly yet it’s almost like he blames you for what’s happening to him. It’s like he’s being haunted by his love for you.”
Haunted by his love for me. That was the most nonsensical phrase I’d ever heard but it shoved my brain into overdrive. Claiming to see me in places I’d never been, wearing clothing I didn’t own. Was my new conclusion possible?
“OMG! Clay! I’m not positive but I think I may have found the answer! I need to Google a few things first though. Switch me places so I can sit at the desk.”
“Okay,” he said with a mischievous smirk, “but this better not be another attempt to get me into your bed, you wicked woman you. How many times do I have to remind you that I’m happily taken?”
“Wicked? You want wicked, I’ll show you wicked!” I said as I lobbed my pillow straight through his spectral behind.
“Ha ha! That tickled! Do it again!”
“Fine. I’ll do it again. But only after you get out of that chair and onto the bed. I need to Google something ASAP.”
“Yes, Dom,” he replied, hanging his head like a disobedient servant would. So I tossed another pillow and a wadded up sheet of notebook paper into him when his back was turned.
“Hey! That hurt! My guts are covered in paper cuts now!” he groaned, clutching his stomach in pain.
I felt really bad for doing it and was about to apologize when he began to laugh. “Faker!” I yelled as I crumpled up another piece of paper and zoomed it straight at his head.
Laughing, Clay settled into my bed while I searched for evidence that my new theory was correct. I typed one word into the search box then waited impatiently for the results.
“Doppelganger” yielded over two million results but I resolved to doggedly investigate every one of them if I had to. Fate be damned! I was closer than ever to a solution and I certainly wasn’t going to be still now.
But with every click, I became disheartened. The sites I was pulling up were all concerned with people finding their living yet unrelated twins. My twin, apparently, was dead. After flinging out a few choice expletives, Clay finally asked me what I was searching for.
“Doppelgangers,” I answered while clicking on yet another possible lead.
“What? You’re looking at porn sites? How is that going to help Zach?” He paused briefly before adding, “But chicks looking at porn is really hot. Mind if I watch you watching them, even if it doesn’t make any sense?”
It took me a minute to understand where his perverted sixteen year old brain was going with this conversation. But once I got it, he got a serious eye roll and another paper cut—this time to the groin.
“OMG! Is that the only thing teenage boys think about? For real! I said doppelganger—as in ghost double. I’m looking for information regarding ghosts that look exactly like living people.”
“Oh. Yeah right. That makes perfect sense now. Sort of. Sorry. Carry on then.”
Clay’s look of disappointment temporarily disappointed me. But as the next website loaded, an odd thought occurred to me. No matter how old, mature, grounded I became; Clay was going to stay the same forever. He would always be young, wild, and at least imaginatively free. He would never grow old with me; never age even the slightest bit. There would come a day when I looked at him not as a contemporary but as a child. And I wept internally for that day—not for him, but for me.
Clay would never know the true meaning of growing up. He would never have to face true adulthood—bills, responsibilities, work, familial worries. He was “living” the dream, so to speak. At some point, our lives were going to become drastically different. Would we still be able to remain friends? When I was saddled with a real job, an overload of housework, a mortgage to worry about—would he and I still share any common ground? Those days were so far in the future that my eighteen year old brain shouldn’t have been pondering them in the first place. But I was cursed from birth with serious mental advancement and there was no way to lift that curse. So I buried it like I did everything else that I couldn’t deal with—with an ironic laugh, wry smile, and a further explanation of what I meant.
“Everyone on earth is supposed to have an unrelated twin—someone who looks exactly like them. But what if my body double is dead and haunting Zach? There could be points where he is able to see and hear both of us at the same time. That would be enough to drive anyone insane if you ask me.”
I could practically see Clay’s brain go from thoughts of porn to being focused on the paranormal. “Yes!” he shouted in agreement. “So while he is thinking that you are doing bad things to him, it’s actually your doodleganger that’s to blame! That has to be the answer!”
I laughed quietly to myself, not just because of his hilarious mispronunciation, but because he reminded me so much of Rachel. Physically they didn’t resemble each other at all. But I was sure that if I could see the visual embodiment of their personalities, I would in fact be looking at a perfectly matched pair of doodlegangers.
“I’m positive that I’m on the right track this time—now all I have to do is figure out what to do about it. I’m not finding anything useful on any of these websites and Rita picked the worst possible time to be out of town. I know the last time you checked in on Zach it didn’t go so well, but would you mind peeking in on him again? Don’t try to talk to him this time—don’t even let him see you if you can help it. I just need to know how he’s doing.”
“Yeah, I know how to keep a low profile when I need to. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
While he was gone, I read Roxanne’s email one more time. I had to find Josette somehow, some way—even if I had to resort to hiring a private investigator to do it for me. She had clues to my mystery and I would stop at nothing to get them.
Clay returned with a solemn look on his face and I knew I was about to get more bad news. So I asked him to give it to me straight—sugar coating the issue wasn’t going to do anyone any good. But after hearing what he had to say, I would have given anything to go back and ask him to break it to me gently. There was something to be said for whitewashing the bitter truth at times.
How much more of this could Zach and I withstand?
14. Blazing a New Path
“I want to die. Please let me die.” I whispered repeatedly to myself, to her, to anyone who would listen. The pain was unbearable—both mentally and physically. As the medical staff held me down and gave me yet another shot, I prayed that they had miscalculated the dosage and that I would die in my sleep.
Until recently, I’d never given much thought to how I would want to spend the last few moments of my life. My current level of misery changed that, however. With no uncertainty, I knew that I wanted to die in my sleep. I didn’t want to be the hero who went out in a blaze of glory. All I wanted was to close my eyes and never open them again. More than anything, I wanted that time to be now. But to accomplish that, I was going to have to take a new approach to my situation.
My eyelids fluttered for a mere moment before I found myself sliding into a dream. Ruby and I were sitting in a movie theater sharing popcorn and laughing like we used to do. She wa
s her old self again—not the sadistic siren she’d become over the last few months. So for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I had a good dream. Confusing, yet good.
But as soon as the previews were over and the main feature began to play, something went wrong with the film. The soundtrack was in super slow motion so that I couldn’t make out a single word. On the flip side, the images on the screen were in fast forward—a mere blur that was indecipherable. Yet when I turned toward Ruby to comment on it, she seemed thoroughly mesmerized by what she was seeing.
She was laughing and crying at the same time. I’d never told her this before, but that was when she was the most beautiful to me. It was when I felt that I was seeing past the exterior and peering in on the beauty inside of her. I kissed her on the cheek, savoring the salt of her tears like they were a fine wine. It didn’t matter to me if I couldn’t enjoy that movie. As long as she was happy, so was I.
That dream made me so happy that waking up to see where I really was made me depressed beyond imagination. I wanted that dream to be real. And it could be real. I was either going to make it real or I was going to end my life once and for all. All I needed to do was get out of here. That’s when I started hatching my plan to escape. It was going to take time, patience, and self-control in abundance.
I was also going to need an accomplice. That part I didn’t even have to think about. I already had the perfect partner in crime in mind. Let the games begin.
15. Treading Water
Hearing that Zach was in excruciating pain was bad enough. But hearing that he was begging for death made my heart sick. I didn’t care what the universe was trying to tell me—being still wasn’t going to cut it. I had to find the answers and I had to find them now.
I needed to be alone to think things through. After Clay left, I sat down at my desk and began noting all of the loose ends I still needed to chase down. Once I had my list made, I rewrote it in order of priority. Finding Josette landed the number one spot. Usually loath to asking for help in times of trouble, I swallowed my pride and realized that I wasn’t going to be able to do this alone.
As I was about to pick up the phone and start dialing home, I realized what time it was. It was 3 am already. Where had the last few hours gone? If I hadn’t known any better, I would have sworn that I time travelled from midnight directly to where I was now. No one I knew would be awake and willing to talk to me at this hour. Even with the time difference between Ohio and Arizona, Roxanne would be in bed by now for sure.
Again, I was being forced to be still. There was no way I was going to get any sleep tonight. So I laid out all of the pieces of the puzzle on my desk and tried to see how they could possibly fit together. I started with the actual objects I had gathered—the moonstones and the feathers. Then I broke open a fresh pack of index cards and wrote each concept on its own card.
I worked through it chronologically—from Chicago to Arizona all the way back to where I was now. Who was my mother afraid of? Was she being haunted too? Roxanne said that she heard Mom say that “he” was getting closer so even if it was a ghost, it wasn’t a doppelganger. Ugh. My frustration was an ever-tightening knot that was dangerously close to suffocating me.
I decided to give my brain a rest and start getting ready for work—five hours early. During the time that I normally allotted for that activity, I had other plans in mind. As soon as the clock struck an at least mostly appropriate hour for communication, I was going to be calling, texting, and emailing everyone I needed help from.
Starting with Shelly, I worked my way around that communication chain until I got to Roxanne. Everyone was more than willing to do their part—except for one of them. The person I least expected to bail on me, did.
Rachel was a bad liar because she had a terrible time hiding her emotions. When she stuttered and stammered her way through the conversation, I knew something was up with her. While she explained that she probably wasn’t the best person to help me since she would be returning to Florida soon, I knew she was hiding something from me. But what? Why would she balk on a plan to help her own brother? I asked her what was wrong but she denied that anything was.
The last thing I needed was more mystery in my life so I resolved to not count on her to help. The last person I needed to contact was Addie but I wanted that conversation to be in person. I needed another tea leaf reading—stat. And if we found that stupid bee in my cup again, I swore I would hurl that hunk of ceramic straight at the wall.
Either my time off, my sleepless night, or a combination of the two threw me completely off of my game. By the end of my shift, there were coffee beans all over the floor and I looked like I’d taken a dip in Lake Latte. But I couldn’t care less about how I looked. I asked Derek if he thought Addie would be up for a quick visit from me and he nodded his head vigorously.
“Most indubitably, fair maiden! The peculiarity of your circumstances intrigues her. Go forth and share your tales with my beloved.”
Derek was one of the quirkiest people I’d ever met—charming yet undeniably odd. But once I really thought about it, practically everyone in my life was. I was a magnet for anyone and anything out of the narrow confines of what society considered normal. Some days it was a burden; other days it was a blessing. If I didn’t have weird people in my life, who would be there to help me deal with my own quirks, right?
I climbed those rickety fire escape stairs up to their apartment without once fearing a collapse and an imminent, painful death. I was focused. I had purpose. I was going forth instead of being still. I was making progress. Zach was going to pull through this because I was never going to give up the search for answers. I wasn’t just his cheerleader anymore—I was his whole damn offensive line.
While I was giving Addie a more detailed account of what was going on, I finally figured out what had rekindled the fire lit under my behind. It wasn’t simply the fact that Zach was being haunted—no, it was more personal than that. He was being haunted by someone who looked exactly like me. A true wolf in sheep’s clothing as it were. How dare my doppelganger use Zach’s love for me against him!? Against both of us? Whoever this dead ringer for me was—and yes, pun intended—she was in for the fight of her (after)life.
Over a cup of tea, I explained who Josette was and why I so desperately needed to find her—even if I had to pay someone to do it for me. That’s when I hit a stroke of good luck which was a feeling I wasn’t well acquainted with.
“Before you go hirin’ a private investigator, let me see if I can pull a few strings for ya. Granny has a cop on her payroll for, well, sticky situations.”
Addie paused awkwardly which made me slightly more frightened of her dear, old grandmother than I already was. What could she mean by “sticky situations”? No, scratch that. Curiosity wasn’t going to kill the cat this time around. Nope. The less I knew about Queen Elva’s operations the better off I would be.
“Any-whoo,” she continued, side stepping the mention of what I assumed were illegal voodoo-type activities. “I’ll give her a quick call and see what she can do to help.”
As I waited impatiently for an answer from Addie, I checked my email to see if Roxanne had replied but she hadn’t. In my message to her, I thanked her for the lead on Josette. I also told her about the moonstones I got while in Sedona and that I needed to know what made them change color.
While I didn’t directly ask Roxanne to make the four hour trek from Tucson to see Salma, I did throw out a few small hints. Okay, they were actually big hints. Big, fat, elephant-sized hints. I would be disappointed if she didn’t take the bait, but I wouldn’t be upset with her—she’d helped me so much already. I was trying to avoid the extra expense of flying back out there. I was trying to be responsible about this whole “going forth” thing. But if worse came to worse, I would plant myself on another plane simply to get the answer.
Addie’s phone call lasted a full half hour—that was twenty nine minutes longer than I deemed necessary. I would never
be able to get used to their southern ways. I was someone who liked to get to the point then move on to the next issue in sixty seconds or less. In my opinion, anything more than a minute constituted fiddling around. And Queen Elva Lafay was a first class fiddler.
Their conversation weaved in and out around mundane things before Addie got to the real reason she’d made the call. They even discussed at great length a recipe for Cajun crawfish gumbo before the important topic surfaced. When I heard a lively debate regarding whether or not shirts should be tucked in, I nearly lost it. I shot Addie the stink eye then pretended to play my imaginary violin to hopefully give her the hint that she was fiddling around. It worked. A minute later, their conversation ended and Addie presented me with a small slip of paper. On it was a name and a phone number. Detective Karl Bailey. I now had professional help in tracking down Josette.
“Here ya go! Granny’s gonna give him a quick call first to let him know you’ll be contacting him. Good luck. I hope he finds her for ya.”
“Thanks, Addie. I’m going to head home now. I got zero sleep last night.”
“Wait! You can’t go until I read your tea leaves. Hurry up and finish your cup.”
I was so tired that I forgot one of the main reasons I stopped to see her. With one last swallow, I drank what was left then performed the usual ritual. She wasn’t going to find a single bee inside there—not this time. No, I was clearly going forth again.
When I looked inside that cup, I discovered that Mom had a wicked sense of humor. But I was far from being amused. I was definitely correct in saying there wouldn’t be a single bee. Instead there was a virtual swarm of them.
“Well if that ain’t one of the weirdest things I ever did see! Look at all those cute little bees, Ruby!”