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by Nicole Lundrigan


  His eyes narrowed, and I thought he was going to ask me more questions, but instead he whistled softly to call Girl back. We went inside and I dug around in the kitchen again, found a can of noodles in tomato sauce and heated it in a saucepan. I made toast, put slices in the bottom of two bowls, and poured the sloppy orange mess over the top. Carl came into the room, his fingers covered in bandages. “That feels better, hey Carl?” I said, sliding the food toward him across the counter.

  “Doesn’t hurt,” he said.

  Carl took only a few bites, then placed the bowl on the floor. Girl trotted over and stuck her snout into it.

  “Didn’t like it?”

  “I did. But Girl likes it too.”

  She lapped up every drop.

  The evening passed quietly. I pulled a thick book out of a pile and sat on the couch. Mountains of the World. A bunch of pages were ripped out, but there were still plenty of interesting parts to read. Carl stayed in a plaid armchair in a corner, mumbling. I tried not to listen, but I could hear him arguing a little. Though he was laughing a little, too. Girl sat by his leg, her head balanced on his thigh. He rubbed her head with the back of his hand, stopped mumbling once to say, “You miss your squirrel, don’t you, Girl?”

  I flipped through all the pages in the mountain book and got another one. Deserts. Then a third about cats. But they were starting to get dull. I looked at the television, its shiny silver knobs and smooth wooden legs. I waited until Carl was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Can I turn it on?”

  He shook his head. “What?”

  “The TV.”

  “Fine. Fine. It’ll be okay, right? Sure it will. But only for a minute. I know, Stan, but it’s just a box, and I broke the connections last night. Fixed the breach.”

  “I don’t have to, Carl. I changed my mind. I’ll just read.”

  “No, turn it on, Magic Boy. But after, you need to, urh, break the wires again.” I leaned to the side and saw that the plug was sitting on the floor. “In case it transmits a signal. Sends it out.”

  “Thanks,” I said. Carl seemed better. More relaxed, anyway. “I’ll check for a show. Something short.” I missed that, squeezing into Telly’s chair with Maisy. Watching anything.

  I plugged the TV back in and yanked out the button near the bottom. The whole screen was fuzz. Switching channels, I saw only hazy figures, heard a kid snicker, a gun fired, car tires screeching. I adjusted the rabbit ears, but static still distorted the screen. I flicked the knob again, saw the jagged shape of a man sitting at a desk. The nighttime news. I was about to switch the television off, but the man said something that made my hand freeze. “…still searching for Rowan Janes from Little Sliding. Anita?” I checked the tips of the rabbit ears, pulled them out as far as they would go. Then I struck the side of the television with my fist. The image snapped into view.

  There was my yard. Right on the screen in black and white. I could see the corner of our house and the edge of the deck where I’d stood in the lightning storm. Our lawn looked all chewed up. A woman in a skirt was holding a microphone with a number six on it. I crouched down, turned up the volume.

  “Police have widened the search today, covering every inch of the extensive wooded area you see behind me. But not a single sign has been found. We’re here with Rowan’s family, Gloria and Theodore Janes. And his sister, Maisy.” The camera view widened, and my mouth fell open. Gloria, and Telly beside her, holding her hand. Maisy was pressed into Telly’s side. Even Chicken was there, asleep in a grassy patch behind them.

  “That’s about me, Carl,” I said, pointing. “They’re talking about me. On television!”

  “Can you tell us what happened?” the woman asked.

  “We— All we know is he was exploring the woods,” said Gloria. “That’s something he loves to do.” She pushed a tissue into her face, looked over at Telly. He wrapped his arm around her. “And the police say he crossed paths with a man in there. He’s that way, Rowan is. Always treats people with respect. Would talk to anyone.”

  I was holding my breath. A low hum came from behind me, but I barely noticed it.

  “He’s a most wonderful boy,” Gloria said. My face got warm. “He’s a great big brother to Maisy.”

  Maisy tucked her chin in. I laughed. She was being just like a turtle.

  “He’s quiet and gentle,” Telly said.

  They said other nice things, too. I pushed my hand into my chest. Then the woman asked them what they’d like to say to me if they could. Telly said, “We love you, Row. We’re doing everything we can, and you just got to hold tight. We’re going to find you.” Gloria started crying and then she said, “Rowan? If you’re listening, all we want is to have you home. Back with us, with your mom and dad, and your sister. You belong with your family. We’re right here, together, waiting for you.”

  Carl’s chair scraped on the floor. Springs groaning.

  The lady thanked Gloria, and then the screen flicked over to the man at the desk. He said, “Rowan Janes was last reported seen at the old stone bridge that crosses Slowrun Creek. A resident of Little Sliding, Karen Grace, told police she was taking an evening stroll with her friend, Lionel Horton. The pair happened upon Rowan Janes and an adult male in that vicinity.”

  The screen flicked again, and then I saw the same lady with the microphone, and a front porch I didn’t recognize. The camera moved out and there was a girl standing on the bottom step. An older woman was beside her. Maybe her mother.

  The girl looked familiar, and then I knew her. She was the one wearing the floppy hat, with that sick freak who forced me and Carl from our camp. She looked younger than I remembered, cleaner, and I felt a jolt of shame that I hadn’t fought back. I touched my throat.

  “He was so aggressive,” the girl said. “Talking real strange. Lionel and me were just hiking around and having a laugh. Not hurting anyone. I don’t even think it was that late. But that guy was really spazzing out.”

  “Can you define what you mean by ‘spazzing out’?” the lady asked.

  “Well, he rushed at us with a knife. And he had this ferocious dog. I knew the boy wasn’t supposed to be there. We tried to convince him to break free, but I think the man had some type of hold on him. Mental hold.”

  “What?” I yelled that out.

  “So Rowan was not there willingly?” the lady asked.

  “No, not at all. We should’ve tried to save him.” The girl looked over her shoulder. “Mom?”

  “You didn’t know.” The mother put her hand on the girl’s back. “We’re all praying for young Rowan. That he finds his way home.”

  My mouth was full open now, and my face was pulsing with heat. No longer in a nice way. I could feel Carl behind me, pacing back and forth, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the screen.

  The newsman appeared again, rifling through papers on his desk. “Police believe Rowan Janes is being held by this man.”

  Being held?

  That didn’t make any sense. Then a photo flashed up. Two men, side by side. One clean and shaven, one bent, dirty, and peering away. I squinted, crawled even closer to the television. A narrow shard of glass jabbed in my palm. I pulled it out and squeezed my thumb over the bleeding puncture. Both men were familiar. Could they be? Yes, they were pictures of Carl.

  “His name is Howard Gill,” the man said. “Call authorities if you see either Rowan Janes or Howard Gill. Do not approach them. Howard Gill is known to be dangerous.”

  Who’s Howard Gill? He looks exactly like Carl.

  “Enough, enough, enough!” Carl screamed. He rushed past me, slammed the knob with his foot. The image collapsed into a white dot and vanished. I scuttled backward.

  “They got me, the Workers. Stan said they would. Stan was right all along. Stan knew. Urh. Urh. He tried to warn me. Warn me. Urh. They caught me inside that box.”

  “Carl,” I said. “You got to listen to me. There’s nothing real in a tele—”

  In one swift move he grabbed the cem
ent man with the headache and, with an awful cry from deep within him, he thrust it at the television. The screen splintered, inside something burst, sparked, and smoke drifted out the front. Carl stomped on the glass then reached behind the TV and tore the plug from the wall.

  I pulled up my knees and wrapped my arms around them. With my hands pressed over my ears and my eyes closed, I tried to remember how Chicken had been snoozing in a rectangle of sunlight. And how worried Maisy’s face looked. And how Gloria and Telly told the woman with the microphone that they missed me. Gloria was crying. My mother was actually crying. About me.

  MAISY

  “Do you want to clean your guns, Telly?”

  “No, Bids. Don’t feel like that now. How about a show? We can wait for the late news to come on.”

  Telly turned on the TV and sat down in his chair. I squeezed in beside him. A man and a lady were playing a piano and singing funny. Telly laughed. I laughed too, to make Telly happy. I put my head on his shoulder, like I did when me and Rowan watched our show together. Telly put his arm around my back. I forgot how soft and warm he was. I was really tired.

  Next thing, Telly was shaking my arm. “Bids? There you are. There you are again.”

  I opened my eyes.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead,” he said. He pointed at the TV.

  Then I saw me in my dress. Me and Gloria and Telly in front of our house. I already saw it once after supper, and there I was again. My eyes were shut up with the sun. Chicken’s eyes were shut up, too. He was pretending to be asleep on the grass, but he kept chomping at the flies. The man at his desk and then Anita all dressed up, and then that girl who saw Rowan with Carl. But she said stuff that didn’t sound right. Both times Telly put his hands over my ears for that part.

  “Do you think that’s true, Telly?” Gloria said. “About the knife and the dog?”

  “Could be.” He took his arm out from behind my back and rubbed at his face. “I can’t think about it.”

  “But for our part, we did a decent job,” Gloria said. “Didn’t we?”

  “Best we could, Glow. Given the circumstances and all. That sort of thing’s not easy for no one.”

  “I really think it’s going to help.” She had her elbows on the back of Telly’s chair.

  “It might. I mean, they got to be somewhere, right? No one just disappears.”

  I sat up. And then I remembered Jenny the Head. She just disappeared all the time. “Do you think Rowan seen us?”

  “I got no idea,” Gloria said. “But lots of other people did.”

  “Lots of people who might notice Rowan out on the street or in a store. Or they might see that man, Bids. And then they’ll call the police, and they’ll go catch him. That’s how this stuff works.”

  I nodded, but I had a happy squishy feeling in my middle. I bet he did. I bet Rowan saw us and I bet he missed us and I bet he was coming straight home.

  “Now up to bed with you, miss.”

  I slid off Telly’s lap and almost stepped right on Chicken. He was sleeping on Telly’s feet.

  “Goodnight, Telly,” I said.

  He hugged me tight. “Goodnight, Bids.”

  Gloria took my hand and we went upstairs to my room. I took off my dress and Gloria hung it in my closet and I tugged on my nightgown with the horse on the front. Gloria put a sheet on me because it was too hot for blankets, and she sat on my bed and smoothed my hair. “Bids? Things are going to get better around here. I’m going to be the best mom. You’ll see. The absolute best. No more being bothered by you kids. Getting upset over nothing. I’m going to remember what’s important. And me and Telly won’t fight no more. We’re closer than we’ve ever been.”

  I smiled big. That happy squirmy feeling was all over me now. Any second, I knew I’d hear Telly yell out, “Heeyyy!” and Rowan would be home.

  She poked some hair behind my ear. “That’s all I ever wished for in this world, you know. To have a perfect family. A perfect home.” Then she got up and flicked off my light and went out.

  I wasn’t sleepy at all. I listened to Gloria and Telly talking downstairs. They were saying stuff, but I couldn’t hear what it was, and Gloria laughed, but in a nice way.

  Then they were talking loud. Telly said, “I don’t know, Glow. I really don’t.” I wiggled free of the sheet and got out of bed and tiptoed over. The door was open a little bit and I crept out into the dark hallway and peeked over the railing. There was a light on by the front door. Telly sat on the bench putting on his sneakers. He was wearing a cap with a car on the front. “Where’re you going?” Gloria said.

  “Home.”

  “You call that place home?”

  “I need to grab a proper rest.”

  Gloria rubbed her lips together. Sometimes she did that when she was thinking hard. “You can manage that, can you? Getting a rest?”

  “C’mon, Glow. Don’t be like that. We been through the woods three times. He’s not there. Not knowing where he’s off to is destroying me.”

  “I see.”

  Gloria stood under the light, and I could see her old brown hairs making a line in the yellow.

  “I’ll be back,” he said. “I’m here for you, Glow. I really am. I need an hour. Two at most. It’s all a bit complicated, with things. You know?”

  He got off the bench and got close to Gloria. Then he kissed her on the lips. For a long time. When he finished it made a smack.

  She patted her cheek and coughed. “You can get a rest here, Telly. With me. Up in our bed.”

  “I—I—”

  “I just want things like regular. Us to be a family.”

  “We are, aren’t we? A family?”

  “Not if you’re leaving.”

  “Couple of hours, and I’ll be back. We got to focus on finding Rowan right now. Not this mess between us. You understand?” He kissed her again. Not as long this time.

  “Oh, Telly,” she said. “Why did it take this to bring us back together?”

  Telly lifted his hat up and pushed it back down. “I got to go. We can talk later, okay?”

  “Promise?” she said.

  “I just got a lot of balls in the air, Glow, but I swear, I want to be right here when our boy gets home.”

  The screen door creaked. Telly went out and then I heard his truck grumble and the dirt crunch. I watched Gloria wave and shut the door. Then I heard her say to nobody at all, “I’m doing my best to be patient. I really, really am.”

  ROWAN

  “Why did you turn on the TV?” Carl yelled. “Tell me. Tell me. Why’d you turn it on, Magic Boy?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Tell me. Why’d you turn it on?”

  “Carl.”

  “Why did you turn it on? Tell me why.”

  “Please. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.”

  “Why did you turn it on?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t know,” he repeated.

  “I don’t, Carl. No reason. I thought it was okay.”

  “You know. Why did you turn it on?”

  “I wasn’t thinking, Carl. There was no reason.”

  He was getting closer and closer.

  “Why did you turn it on?”

  “I just—I just wanted to watch a sh-shh—”

  “What show.” His words burst out before mine even finished.

  “I don’t know. I wanted to check.”

  “Check what. Urh. Hey, Magic Boy? Check, check? What did you need, urh, to check?”

  “What was on?”

  “What did you think was on?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. Any show. That’s all. Just a show. Something regular.” So I could pretend that things were normal. That I had a home.

  “You knew I was in there, did, did, urh, didn’t you?”

  “In where?”

  “In the box. You knew they locked me in the box.”

  “I didn’t. I really didn’t. You’re not in the box, Carl. You�
��re right here with me. We’re here. Right? In your cottage.”

  He didn’t seem to hear me.

  “Keeping me in there. Restraining me. Collecting my thoughts to destroy me. I’m contained. I’m, I’m, I’m, urh, contained.”

  “I swear I didn’t put you in there, Carl. I swear!”

  “Swear, swear. Imagine if I put you in a box. Hey, Magic Boy? How would you like that? Think about it. Locked inside a tiny space and you can’t get out. You feel all around your hideaway and there’s no door. You can touch the ceiling.”

  I shook my head.

  “Workers come in twos!” he bellowed. “Workers only come in twos. That’s an irrefutable fact. Is it? Is it? You called them to the bridge. Them. You sent a signal. You are the exception. You are the exception.”

  I rolled over, squeezed my eyes closed. I didn’t want to be at the cottage anymore. I wanted to be home. With Maisy. With Chicken. With Gloria and Telly.

  “Stan is watching!” he screamed. I heard him spit, the splatter hitting the floor. Then the floor rumbled from a smash. The television struck only inches from my head. I slit open one eye. Carl’s face was right there. I could smell the oil on his skin. Stale tomato sauce on his breath.

  “Stan is watching you now,” he whispered.

  When I looked at Carl the muscles all over my body began to quiver. I could see Stan. I knew I could. Stan was vast. Red, red, red in Carl’s sky. There he was. Seeping out from the inside.

  Then Carl said in a strange soft voice, “Let’s go for a boat ride, Magic Boy.”

  “Now? It—it’s late, Carl.”

  “Now. It’s late.”

  I don’t think he was echoing me that time.

  I stood up. My legs were like jelly.

  “Go ahead of me,” Carl said.

  “Sure, Carl. Sure.”

  With the brightness from the moon, I managed to walk down to the dock. Behind me I could hear Girl’s nails clipping the wood and Carl’s feet dragging. As he stepped past me into the rowboat, it rocked back and forth. He pressed the side of the boat to the dock, held it there, steadied it for Girl. Then steadied it for me. When I saw him do that, making things safer, I thought maybe, just maybe, everything would be all right. We were just going to enjoy the water, the view of the bright full moon perched over the trees. Carl did seem calmer. He was like that, his moods flipping one way and then back again.

 

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