The screen door opened and slammed. Charlie crossed to her bed and peeked out through the window slats. “He’s home.”
I considered my options. Hope for a dinner invite or sneak out the back? “Why doesn’t your dad like me?”
“He likes you.”
“Haven’t you noticed that I usually only have dinner here when he’s not home?”
Charlie laughed. “Nah. He’s just tired when he gets home. Don’t take it personally.”
“Well, if I stay tonight, I could bring up something in conversation, like um, us working on an assignment next Saturday. Set the stage.”
Charlie pointed her mascara brush at me in the mirror. “But wait, why would we work on an assignment early on a Saturday?”
Charlie put on a vibrant orange lipstick. I fussed with my hair for the hell of it, but my mind was on our plan. “I know! For Kirsten’s class. Let’s say we need to shoot photos of the sunrise.”
Charlie nodded slowly. “That’s smooth. That actually kinda works. You’re good.”
“The best lies have a bit of truth. Always.” I put my head next to hers and took a selfie of us in the mirror. Charlie combed her hair back and finished applying a touch of eyeliner. She looked like a pixie.
“You are gorgeous,” I said.
Charlie responded with a slight blush. “Okay, let’s do it. I’m in.”
A few seconds later, there was a knock at the door.
“Yeah?” Charlie said. The door opened. Charlie’s dad was a tall man with a slight gut, receding cropped blond hair and a big bushy mustache. His hat was off, but he was still in his suit. A silver badge stated Detective Ian Farrow.
Her dad looked at the mirror and the altar of makeup laid out in front of Charlie, and then he turned to me with his pale blue eyes. Maybe it was my imagination, or because he was a cop and ex-military dude, but it seemed he was always trying to read me. Whenever he was around, I felt guilty. Like I had done something horrible I couldn’t remember and was about to get caught.
“Amazing game last night. You kicked ass. Both of you.”
“Thanks.” Blood rushed to my face. I didn’t understand why he was being so nice.
“Stay for dinner?”
“Um, yeah. That would be great.” I said, surprised.
Charlie and I met each other’s eyes in her mirror.
“We’re ordering in. Popeye’s? KFC? Loni Chang’s?”
“Loni’s,” we said in unison. “Jinx.”
“We’ll pick out some stuff on our phones,” Charlie said as she stood up and brushed the hair from her eyes. For just a moment, she looked like her mom. After her dad left, we turned to each other and linked pinkies. Without even trying, our plan was succeeding.
Chapter Seven
I posed for the security camera, and Dr. Jergenson buzzed me in. On my first visit, I smiled at the lens. Now, I stared it down like paparazzi. Inside her office, I sat down across from her on her leather sofa. As always, she sat patiently, waiting for me to speak first. The room was simple, comfortable. Paintings with abstract shapes and muted colors. Nothing that might upset a crazy person, I supposed.
“Haven’t I been seeing you long enough?” I asked.
“There’s no set timeframe for these things, Alysa.”
“I’m screwed up, huh?”
“You had a serious accident. Your blood work is normal, but your memory should have recovered more by now.”
“But I am getting better. I remember… things,” I half lied.
It was somewhat true. I remembered stuff, mainly about Alyx, but I had no plans of sharing those memories. They were private.
Memories. That was Dr. Jergenson’s focus. Ever since I admitted I remembered almost nothing from before my rescue, that’s all she talked about. Sometimes I made up stories. Perhaps they were memories. Wasn’t a memory just a story, anyway?
“You’re distracted,” Jergenson commented. I shifted on the sofa, the leather sticking to my thighs.
“No, I’m not.”
Jergenson was a neuropsychiatrist who specialized in people with brain injuries. “Have more memories returned?” I shrugged. I considered mentioning Fish Mouth or hearing Alyx’s voice and wondered how she’d react. “Did it ever occur to you that part of you, that scared little girl inside, doesn’t want to remember?”
I laughed. “I’m not scared. And why wouldn’t I want to remember?”
“You had a traumatic experience.”
If that’s what Jergenson believed, she was deluded. I’d happily eat my left foot if she guaranteed I’d remember the past.
“Mom sang lullabies when we born.”
“An early memory?”
“Alyx told me.”
“Impressive. I can’t remember anything from that age. What else does Alyx tell you?”
My mouth went dry. I’d specifically decided not to tell her that. Had I said my thoughts out loud?
“Pardon?”
“You mentioned Alyx told you about lullabies. Is everything okay?”
“I need water.”
Dr. Jergenson crossed to a pitcher of water and poured a glass. Putting it beside me, she gently patted my arm and sat next to me on the couch. Her expensive floral perfume made me nauseous. It smelled like funerals.
“It’s normal to miss your sister. But your dad told me you visited the police again. I thought we decided that was an unhealthy pattern.”
I panicked. You know you’re losing it when you consider saying something to someone, decide not to, and blurt it out anyway. At least I hadn’t told her Alyx only talked to me when I dived, that she wanted me to follow her deeper. Now that would be bad. I pictured myself wheeled away on a gurney, drooling while a tattooed orderly sedated me.
I thought those things and then I looked up with wide eyes. Had I thought them or said them? But Jergenson still waited for a response. My stomach rolled over again. I needed to leave.
“Even if your mind doesn’t remember, your body does.”
“Pardon?”
“All our experiences get stored in our bodies. In our cells and even our DNA. I can help you, Alysa. But you need to be honest with me.”
“I’m going to throw up,” I said.
Lurching out of the chair, I ran to the bathroom and threw up my breakfast. That proved to be an awesome way to end a therapy session early. It was only Monday, and already I couldn’t wait for the weekend.
Chapter Eight
School on Monday was better and worse than expected. Better: no one asked me about what happened after the game, and no one noticed the bruise on my mouth was fake. Charlie was proud of her work.
Worse: kids who I thought were my friends avoided me and I gained a new nickname— Tooth Monster. I hated my damn school and couldn’t wait for the year to be over next week.
It was past 7:30 PM when I got home. Alabaster poked her beak through the wire and snatched a sardine. At the last minute, she moved a fraction of an inch, cutting me. A pearl of blood appeared on my pointer finger, but the cut immediately healed.
“Oh, Alabaster, why the ‘tude, huh?” I asked with a gentle tone. But she was immune to my charm, which wasn’t saying much these days. She looked at me with a cold stare, as if to say, “Get me outta this joint.”
“Dammit!” I heard through the tall wooden fence that separated us from our neighbor, The Woman I Wasn’t Supposed to Talk To. Then there was a moan. I shoved the last sardine in Alabaster’s cage and approached the fence.
Propping myself up, I peeked through a large slat. The woman lay in the grass with a broken shelf and books on top of her. She’d hung a metal work light with an extension cord hanging from a tree. It swayed in the breeze and cast eerie shadows.
“Are you okay?” I called. Whatever disagreement Dad had had with this woman, he wouldn’t want me to leave her injured. I sprinted around to the front gate, also tall; she was big on privacy. I pulled on a string attached to a latch and let myself in.
When I arri
ved in the backyard, the woman had pulled herself from under the books, but her leg was trapped beneath the heavy wood. I ran over and lifted the shelf.
“Oh, goodness!” the woman cried, massaging her thigh. Her yard was a jungle. It had been nice once. Several bird feeders and stone planters were spread throughout, but in the abundant tropical heat, the yard had become overrun with vines and years’ worth of windstorm-swept leaves.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I’m leaving this dump, obviously. I tried to move the shelf; it broke,” she said, not meeting my eye.
“Late to be moving, isn’t it?” I went to help her.
She shrugged off my hand and stood up, wincing. “Too hot in the day.”
“It’s a lot to move by yourself.”
“Yeah, well, not everyone has fancy payments coming in every month. And I have a fence for a reason. Didn’t ask for help or your damn questions.”
“Okay… guess I should go.”
“Don’t stare at me like that. Don’t need your pity.”
“I wanted to help, sorry.” I saw why my dad told me not to talk to her. She was bitter with a dash of crazy. I turned to leave.
“If anything, I pity you!” she shouted. “Living with him. Murderer. You’ll end up like his wife,” she mumbled under her breath.
I stopped. “What?”
“You’ll end up dead one of these days. Disappeared like the others. Just ‘cause he’s your Dad don’t make him no saint, don’t even make him a decent person. Nope. Watch your back, kid.”
My hands trembled as I closed the gate and walked back into our house. Dad sat in the TV room, May next to him. They watched an old black and white movie.
Dad wasn’t perfect, far from it. I wasn’t the type of kid to consider him a hero, or even a role model. Actually, that’s not true. He was a role model, but he showed me exactly the way I didn’t ever want to be. But the idea that he had anything to do with Ama or Mom’s disappearance was beyond horrible. And what about Alyx?
A silver-framed photo on the dining table caught my eye. It was Ama and Dad with me and Alyx. All four of us smiled in the photo. Ama proudly held a pink stuffed octopus toward the camera. Dad’s eyes were bright and clear; he didn’t look like a stoner back then. We were at a carnival or something. As I scanned the picture, nausea oozed from my stomach up to my chest. There was a whole story there that I needed to remember.
“Wanna join us?” May asked.
I ignored her and went to my room. Now I had a headache as I tried to recall the past. It was hard to separate the little I remembered from before the rescue with the few photos Dad had. He told me Ama died in a car wreck. And what about Mom? I knew she left us when we were young. But was that true? Wouldn’t she have at least tried to get in touch?
My mind flashed back to my visit to the police precinct. They might re-open Alyx’s case if they had further evidence. This gave me an idea if I had the guts to follow through. I didn’t see that I had any choice. But first, I’d give him the chance to explain himself.
Chapter Nine
Later, the front door opened, and I peeked out through my curtains. May got into her car and left. Thank god. I heard Dad turn off the TV and go to the den.
I took a deep breath and left my room. I stood behind him and watched him chat online with a guy about some kind of treasure location in the Bahamas. Pretty much all Dad did was watch TV with May or obsess about finding lost treasure. It went well with his lottery ticket addiction.
“Where did May go?”
He jumped. “Howzit? Where’ve you been?” Big goofy smile. Blasted as usual.
“I want to talk.”
“Can it wait a bit, sweetheart? May’s gonna be back soon…”
“She’s always here. I need to talk to you now, without her around.”
“May loves you, kiddo.”
“I don’t love her or her nasty daughter.”
Click, click, click, tap, tap. Dad tuned out, staring at the screen intently.
I leaned over and turned off the monitor. He rubbed his eyes.
“Okay…” He spun around. “You wanna talk, let’s talk.”
I sat down across from him. Then I blurted it out. “What really happened to Ama, Alyx and Mom?”
It felt gratifying to see the pain wash across his face. Finally, a reaction.
“Don’t you think it’s weird?” I continued. “I mean…”
“I know it’s hard. But I’ve told you, sweet cheeks, Alyx died in a boating accident. You almost died, too. And your mom left us when you were little.”
“Why doesn’t Mom ever call? Doesn’t she wonder about us?”
“If I had a number, I’d give it to you and you could ask.” He raised his hands in the air, his Jesus pose. I knew the gesture well.
“Did you see Alyx’s body?”
Dad looked at the floor. “What a question—”
“Did you?”
“No. She was never recovered.”
“So how do you know she’s dead?”
“Because it’s been four years!” he shouted, voice breaking.
“But I showed up. What happened?”
“We lived at sea on a ship for a year, you remember that?”
I shook my head.
“Well, I’ve told you, Ama took you, Alyx and another kid out in a smaller boat for an afternoon trip. Bad weather came, and...Ama blamed herself, never was the same afterward.”
He relit his joint and took a drag. I waved the smoke away.
“A month later a ship found you floating near an island, barely alive. They called the Coast Guard,” he said.
“And maybe they also found Alyx?”
“Someone would have told me. It’s not something anyone would keep a secret.”
“What island?”
“Octopus Island. An abandoned hippie commune. Nothing there.”
“How did I survive a month in the ocean?”
“A miracle, sweetheart. I don’t have all the answers.”
Well, that was one thing he was right about. So far, he’d said nothing that convinced me that Alyx might not still be alive… or that he wasn’t somehow involved.
“What about Ama?”
“After you and your sister disappeared, she lost it. Stopped going to work, didn’t eat, didn’t sleep. When they called off the search, she hung out at the marinas, looking for a boat, willing to continue.”
Dad turned his monitor back on and started to shut down the computer, but it crashed.
“She was carrying about a thousand bucks. They found her purse and ID in the harbor. I guess she ran into the wrong… people.”
“You told me she died in a car accident!”
“I didn’t want to make things worse for you.”
Murderer. The woman’s word nested in my mind like a demented bee.
“The woman next door said you killed her.”
Dad’s face darkened, and he stood up, fists clenched. “That… I should sue that fucking bitch. She has no right—”
“Well?”
He knelt in front of me and took my hands in his. They were cold and clammy. I pulled away.
“People spread rumors, all lies. Never think that, not even for a second. I loved Ama. When I met her, you and Alyx were only seven years old. I’d been a single Dad for a while, and I wasn’t sure how it would be for everyone. But we became a family.” Tears welled up and rolled down his cheeks. I predicted an Academy Award in his future. “Wanna know the truth?”
I narrowed my eyes. “No, I want more lies.”
May came in, bottle of wine in a bag. “Alysa… we missed you.”
Anger flooded my stomach. “What’s the truth Dad?”
“Should I come back?” May asked.
“Yes,” I told her.
“It’s okay,” Dad said.
“The truth is, Ama loved you like her own. And I love you very much, too.”
“And Alyx?”
He raised his hands,
shook his head and dropped them at his sides.
Then I felt May’s warm, sticky doll-making hand on my bare shoulder. Soon, she’d want to do some kind of group hug and I’d vomit on myself.
“Go eat raspberry air,” I mumbled. I shook her hand off and went to my room.
I sat down at my desk and pulled out one of my composition books. It happened to be Chemistry, one of my least favorite subjects. I tore out several blank pages from the back and began to write.
Hina Precinct: Reasons to Re-Open Alyx Grey’s Case:
1. My dad killed Alyx?
2. Our neighbor calls him a murderer.
2. Pattern of women connected to Dad go missing.
I stared at the paper and my eyes misted over. Dad drove me crazy, but I loved him. Could he really have killed Ama? Mom, Alyx? It was too crazy. As angry as I was, I couldn’t imagine it. But I remembered almost nothing from my past. Maybe he was pretending to be the easy-going, somewhat-screwed-up stoner Dad. As long as he was innocent, the cops would investigate and no harm would come to him. But at least Alyx’s case would be opened again. I crumpled it up and took another sheet of paper.
Dear Hina Precinct,
I respectfully request that you reopen the case for Alyx Grey. Recent events have given me reason to believe my father, Dylan Grey, is worthy of investigation about her disappearance.
Thank you for your prompt attention.
Signed,
Alysa Grey
That seemed fair. I signed the letter and folded it. I locked my door and tried it three times as usual. My door checking was a silly nightly ritual. But if I didn’t do it, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. For the first time, I wondered if there was a reason behind my habit.
Chapter Ten
By the time Saturday came, I was wiped. All week I pretended that I didn’t notice or care that no one except for Charlie talked to me at school. Meanwhile, Dad was extra nice to me, which made me feel guilty about the letter. It sat waiting in my pocket, but I hadn’t had the guts to take it to Hina Precinct yet. Charlie slept over, and I explained what was going on.
The Atlantis Twins Page 4