My Sister is Missing

by Carissa Ann Lynch

  I kept flipping, past photos of Madeline in cheerleading and me in band, and both of us in our prom dresses. Madeline was asked to the prom by several boys, but she coyly told them all no. I’d almost forgotten until now how tied to the hip Madi was with her two best friends in high school. Right on cue, the next photo was of Madi, her arms looped around Jessica Feeler and Rhonda Sheckles. Oh, how I loathed those girls…

  The three of them couldn’t have been any more different from each other, Jessica with her bone-straight blonde hair, Rhonda with swirly red curls and freckles, and Madi in the middle, with her blondish brown hair cut in a jagged bob. But, in this particular picture, Madeline’s hair was dyed platinum blonde. I remembered her begging Mom to buy the dye, to let her change her hair. Rhonda and Jessica stayed over that night, helping her apply the malodorous color to her hair.

  At that point, Madeline had moved upstairs to the bonus rooms, to get away from the rest of us. I could remember creeping up those steps, slithering on my belly, as I tried to catch a glimpse of what she and the older girls were up to…

  I held the album up, studying the contours of my sister’s face. She was pretty then, and still so pretty now. A little triangle of film poked out from behind the picture of the girls. Gripping it between my nails, I slid another photo out from behind theirs.

  I gasped, staring down at the small school photo in my hand. It was a picture of a girl named Sarah Goins. She was probably in fourth grade in this picture. She and I were in the same class, but we may as well have been from different planets.

  While most kids spent their free time playing on the swings or chasing each other in a game of tag, Sarah spent her time in the dirt. She liked to make up stories and talk to herself, sometimes even pouring bits of loose gravel and dirt over her own head. Her hair was greasy and limp, her lips and eyes the color of dust balls and slate. I stared at the picture, mesmerized by the girl looking back at me. She was less of a girl, and more like a ghost.

  Sarah Goins looked haunted, but wasn’t that what they always said about pictures of dead girls?

  Sarah had disappeared in sixth grade. Everyone suspected that she either drowned in Moon Lake by accident or went crazy and ran off. She wasn’t a happy child. Maybe she did run away, but, deep down, I knew she had to be dead. Why else wouldn’t she have come back home?

  But, then, I thought about myself … I hadn’t been back home either. Until now.

  I didn’t really know Sarah well, none of us did. But a memory was rising – didn’t she give me this picture? I remembered now … Sarah, in her dirt-stained overalls, racing around the playground, a toothy smile on her face. She was handing out these photos of herself; she wanted to trade pictures with the other kids. She came from a poor family; her father dead and her mom left to run the farm on her own. ‘Mom bought my school pictures this year. Here, I want you to have one!’ She looked so happy as she thrust one of the photos into my hand. I told her thank you, and feeling self-conscious, tucked it quickly away in my jeans pocket. Next Sarah approached a group of girls by the jungle gym. ‘Here, please take one,’ she told a girl I didn’t recognize. Sneering, the girl accepted the photo and then promptly, ripped it to pieces. In a flash, she had yanked the rest of the stack from Sarah’s hands. One by one, she shredded the pictures to pieces and then, in a final dramatic gesture, she threw them up in the air. Tiny white flakes of photo paper caught in the air and floated around the playground like a miniature snowstorm.

  ‘How could you?!’ Sarah screamed, clawing at her own cheeks. Her face was so red, so angry in that moment … and who could really blame her?

  ‘She can’t even spell her own last name!’ someone shouted. ‘G-o-i-n! Do you know what that spells, Sarah! Go in! Go in! We don’t want you on this playground!’ And just like that, the other kids were chanting, their fists pumping the air, their giggles high and cruel. ‘Go in!’ they sang in chorus.

  I squeezed my eyes shut at the memory, trying to keep the tears at bay. Finally, I opened my eyes and slammed the album closed, but not before stuffing Sarah’s picture back inside.

  I climbed back into my sister’s bed and pulled the covers up over my head. I tried to force myself to sleep, but those chants wouldn’t go away. Like a broken record, or a song stuck in my head, the voices called out, ‘Go in! Go in!’

  And one of those voices was mine.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Golden sunlight burned my cheeks, the cool bed sheets like salve on an open wound. I curled up into a protective ball, slipping further down beneath the blankets. It was way too early on a Sunday to get out of bed yet.

  ‘Where is my mommy?’ Ben’s voice was so close to my ear that it made my cheek vibrate. I pushed the covers up with my knees like a tent and watched him crawl inside it.

  ‘I don’t know, buddy.’

  ‘I don’t know, buddy. Wait, how can you not know?’ His eyes were red and raw, as though he’d been crying, and his mouth was twisted up with worry. I shouldn’t have told the truth. Sometimes it’s better to lie.

  ‘I think she had some stuff to take care of, but please don’t worry, Ben. I’m here now. I’ll take care of you until she gets back.’

  ‘Promise?’ He nuzzled his head into the crook of my arm and curled his legs around my own. My sister used to do the same thing, sometimes digging her feet into the back of my calves until they ached. The realization that he was a mini-version of her was like a bowling ball in my chest. Where is my sister? Why isn’t she back yet?

  ‘Promise. Now go wake up Shelley and get dressed, please. We’re going to Bed and More.’

  ‘What about breakfast?’

  ‘We’ll get something on the way.’ I threw the covers aside and slithered out of bed. Ben took off across the hall, shouting for Shelley to ‘rise and shine’.

  My sister had worked at Bed and More since the summer she turned seventeen. While I went off to college and the ‘big city’, as she called it – for the record, Charleston, South Carolina was nothing like the ‘big city’, in my eyes – she stayed behind, graduating from stocker to cashier, and then finally to part-time manager. I used to tease her a little bit about it. Then one time, she said, ‘Well, someone had to stay behind with Mom and Dad. I guess that someone is me.’ She always seemed to like working there; Madeline loved talking to people and was good at selling things, apparently.

  I padded down the hallway, poking my head into Ben’s room. Shelley was in there, helping him pull on a pair of sweatpants. She was a good little sister, staying patient as she fought the material over his toes.

  I went into the guest room. The bed was still unmade from where I’d slept in it yesterday, my duffel bag sprawled open on the floor. At some point, I knew I should probably hang up my clothes. I remembered my promise to stay for a while. Was Madi in some sort of trouble? Was that why she hadn’t come home?

  Digging out a pair of jeans and a tank top, I quickly got dressed and went out to the living room, peeking back out through the curtains, hopeful that Madi had returned. The Jeep was still gone.

  I checked my phone for missed calls; there were none. I tried to call Madi again, but this time, her phone went straight to voicemail. Did she turn her phone off, or did her battery die?

  I tried to keep my fear at bay, but it was fruitless – something was seriously wrong here, and today, I had to do something about it.

  It took another half hour to get the kids’ teeth brushed and they screamed and complained when I accidentally put Crest instead of the kid-flavored paste on their brushes.

  It seemed like a lot of work just to drive a few miles outside of town and check to see if Madi was at work, but I had to do something. I had to know if she was okay.

  By the time we were loaded in, it felt like the end of the trip instead of the beginning, and when I looked at my reflection in the rearview mirror, I was shocked by how hollow my cheeks and eyes looked. Without make-up, I looked sad and pale, like some sort of mental health patient. My mossy brown hai
r was greasy, despite last night’s shower.

  It wasn’t until I’d put the car in gear, that I realized my mistake. Neither Shelley nor Ben were old enough to travel without car seats. Ben could have gotten by with a booster, maybe, but Shelley was small for her age and needed a rear-facing seat. What was I thinking? I adjusted my mirror so that I could see them in the backseat. They were so short, and the seatbelt straps practically covered their faces.

  ‘Dammit!’ I covered my face with my hands. All this work, getting them ready, for nothing.

  I took a deep breath and turned around to look at Ben. ‘Do you know where your mom keeps your car seats? You do use car seats, yes?’

  ‘Yes?’ Ben echoed back, staring out the side window. I gnashed my teeth in frustration.

  ‘They’re in the Jeep,’ Shelley told me. ‘Mom took them with her. Why would she do that?’

  ‘She must have forgotten.’ The words trailed off as I stared out my own window. ‘Come on, guys.’ I got out of the Civic and opened the back door. Huffing and puffing, Ben climbed out, Shelley following behind him.

  ‘We’re going to see the neighbor.’ I took their little hands in mine and we crossed the field together, toward the Tennors’ cottage, though I was unsure if the Tennors even still lived there.

  The cottage was smaller than I remembered, a soft, slow curl of smoke floating up from the chimney. It was way too hot for a fire, but to each their own, I guess.

  A ball of nervousness rose inside me, but I forced myself to step up on the porch and knock. I held my breath, praying someone was home.

  Ben and Shelley were distracted, chasing each other in circles while I waited.

  I was about to give up when the door creaked open. A stooped man with white hair and a beard stood in the doorway. He was dressed in too-tight sweatpants and a canary yellow T-shirt. He looked to be about seventy years old.

  ‘May I help you?’ He peered past me, taking in Shelley and Ben.

  ‘Hi. I’m Emily Ashburn. My sister lives next door…’

  ‘Well, hello, Emily. I thought these were your sister’s kids. Long time no see.’ His eyes twinkled. So, it was Mr Tennors. He’d aged quite a bit since the last time I saw him, but that had to be what? Ten years ago?

  ‘Nice to see you, Mr Tennors. How is Mrs Tennors?’

  ‘I’m sorry to say she passed a couple years ago.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ I cringed, wishing my sister had thought to mention that. But, why would she? I didn’t go to dad’s funeral, so why would she think I’d care about some old neighbor’s passing? And it wasn’t like she told me anything anyway. She didn’t even tell me where she was going!

  ‘It’s quite alright. I miss her, but I’m glad she’s no longer in pain. She had cancer, you see.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said again, feeling terrible and awkward.

  ‘Would you like to come in?’

  ‘No. I was just wondering – have you seen my sister? Outside, or anywhere in town this weekend?’ I lowered my voice, glancing back at the kids. ‘I don’t really know where she is,’ I whispered.

  ‘Oh dear. I’m sorry, but no, I haven’t seen her. Have you checked her place of employment? I was sure sorry to hear about John moving out…’ I was shocked that he already knew about John, but then I remembered how small this town really was. Compared to the ‘big city’ I came from, Bare Border, Indiana was like a village. Nothing stays secret for long, not when you live in a bubble. That was one reason I moved away in the first place.

  ‘Well, that’s where we were headed. I was going to drive up to Bed and More, to see if maybe she went into work. But then I realized that I don’t even have the kids’ car seats. I’m feeling a little stranded here … and I was hoping maybe you’d seen her.’

  Mr Tennors cleared his throat. ‘Well, I could drive up there for you. Or, if you’d like, I can keep an eye on these two, just until you get back.’

  Chewing on my lip, I didn’t know what to say. Leaving the kids with him would be a major convenience, plus I could buy a couple car seats while I was out. But I’d seen so many scary movies and crime shows, about creepy old neighbors taking advantage of small children…

  But this was Mr Tennors. He’d lived next door to me all my life. I played in the field by his house, and he’d never tried to kidnap or hurt me.

  ‘Do you guys mind staying here with Mr Tennors?’ I asked Shelley and Ben, tentatively.

  Shelley shrugged. ‘Can we play checkers again?’ she asked Mr Tennors.

  ‘You bet,’ he said to her, grinning. ‘It will be nice to have some company.’ He directed this to me.

  ‘Ben? Is that okay? I won’t be gone longer than an hour.’

  Ben nodded, chewing on his lower lip. His face was still thoughtful and worried.

  ‘Will you bring my mommy home, please?’ The shaky ‘please’ threatened to make me come undone. It broke my heart to see him without her. Between the two children, Ben relied on my sister the most, apparently.

  ‘I don’t know, Ben. I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep. But I promise that I’ll try to find out more while I’m in town. I’ll also buy you guys some breakfast while I’m out.’

  ‘Don’t worry about breakfast. I got waffles inside,’ Mr Tennors offered. I felt so grateful, like I should reach out and give him a hug. I thanked him over and over, then took off running across the field, eager to get to the bottom of my sister’s strange disappearance, and secretly relieved to catch a break from the kids.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The parking lot of Bed and More was deserted, but that’s what I’d expected. Ten miles south of Bare Border, the town of Merrimont wasn’t much bigger. Bed and More and Sam’s were the only two stores around.

  A woman in a blue apron greeted me at the door. I fought the urge to ask her if she knew my sister. I needed to go straight to the manager; I needed to know if they’d seen or heard from Madeline.

  It had been years since I’d shopped at Bed and More. Once, Mom and Dad and I stopped by to see Madeline while she was working. Mom pushed our cart up and down the aisles while dad complained about the smell. ‘It smells like potpourri. And not the good kind,’ he’d whispered, whatever the hell that meant.

  Today the store looked larger, like they’d done some renovations over the years.

  There was furniture and lots of odds and ends – candles, bath towels, rolling pins, scented soap. Everything home-related you could ever need, all displayed in one cramped, stuffy building.

  I walked through a library – rich oak cabinets filled with dummy books lining its shelves, and then drifted through pretend kitchens and living rooms. Couches and chairs were placed on top of rugs and angled around plastic TV sets, displayed on fancy entertainment centers. I fought the urge to plop down on one of the cushy sofas. An imitation of a better life sounded pretty good right now.

  The checkout counters were on the other side of the store and I scanned the aisles as I went, wishing and hoping I’d find Madeline stocking shelves or sweeping.

  There were nearly a dozen registers, but only one girl was working. I stood in line behind a heavyset woman with a cart full of plastic flowers and what looked like cardboard plant vases.

  I tapped my foot, trying to feign patience. Madeline was always the patient one. Anytime Mom or Dad would take us out to eat or to the mall, she seemed perfectly content to stand in line, or wait an hour for food to arrive. Old habits die hard – I chewed on a jagged fingernail and gnawed on my inner cheek as I skimmed the store again for signs of Madi.

  Finally, when the woman in front of me finished paying, I scurried up to the girl at the register. She looked leery of me, probably because I didn’t have a cart.

  ‘Hi, there. I’m Emily, Madeline’s sister? I’m trying to find her, and I was wondering if she was working today.’

  The girl couldn’t be much older than eighteen. She had shiny black hair and dark, devilish make-up that made her look extra white and waxy in the ligh
t. ‘Haven’t seen Madi since … well, let me think. It was Tuesday … yeah, I think it was … Misti!’ I flinched as she shouted for another girl, and then suddenly a young blonde appeared. She, too, looked like a teenager. Did any adults, besides my sister, work here?

  I was surprised to see the blonde was wearing a name badge: Misti, Store Manager.

  ‘Have you guys seen or heard from Madeline?’ I asked. Misti had young, pretty features – smooth hair and bright blue eyes – but her nose was misshapen, her two front teeth a little crooked. Her flaws made me like her more for some reason.

  ‘Madi took off a couple days because her – well, you – were coming to town. But she was due to work the 10 to 6 shift today, and she still hasn’t shown up.’ Misti looked down at her watch. From here, I couldn’t see what time it was, but I guessed it was well past noon.

  My heart felt heavy in my chest, like a lump of food was stuck between my wind pipe and stomach.

  ‘Is Madi okay? She’s our best employee. I’d really hate to lose her … in fact, she would be the manager now, if it wasn’t for her kids. She couldn’t handle all the hours. I really need her help around here though.’

  Before I could respond, the girl with the dark make-up chimed in, ‘Maybe it has something to do with that husband of hers. He was a real piece of work. One of the grumpiest men I’ve ever met. And he was cheating on her. Did you know that?’

  I tried to swallow, forcing the lump to dissolve, but it wouldn’t go away. Chances of this being a simple misunderstanding were looking pretty slim. Madeline was missing. No-showing at work was not something she would do.

  ‘I know about John already, and I’m not sure where Madi is. But I am sure it must have been something important if she missed work because of it. You won’t fire her, will you?’ I tried to give Misti my best imitation of puppy dog eyes.

  ‘We won’t, as long as she comes back soon. But if she doesn’t … well, I can only cover for her for so long…’

  ‘I understand. Hey, do you guys know where that woman, Starla, lives? The one John’s been seeing?’