I let go of the glass. She drinks it all and asks Jag for more.
“Did you drink before Wednesday?”
She laughs. “Except when I had weed or pills.”
Jag hands her a full glass. She takes a few sips.
“Have you ever seen a counselor?” asks Jag.
“In juvie. Waste of time.” She sips more.
“I’ll go with you,” I say. “We’ll talk to Mom tomorrow. Find someone we like and give her a try.”
“Yes, definitely a her.” She finishes the glass and hands it to Jag, who moves to the dresser to pour more wine. “That’s enough, Jag. Thanks.”
“Can you sleep?” I ask.
Bailee stares ahead, glassy-eyed. “At one time I thought I’d try to find a version of me who didn’t go to the lake that day. Dad said we could go camping or to Six Flags Over Texas. Where’s the girl who went to Six Flags? Maybe she’s doing OK. But I couldn’t figure out how to find her.” She slides down the bed and pulls covers to her neck.
I touch her face. “We’ll get through this, Bailee.” I slide down.
She turns on her side. “Spoon me?”
“Sure.” I move close to her, my arm around her waist.
“I’ll put these away,” says Jag.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I say. “You’re sleeping with us tonight.”
“But your parents . . .”
“What are they going to do? I need you, and Bailee needs me.” I kiss her head. Her breathing is slow and steady. “Please, Jag.”
He climbs in and scoots next to me. I turn my head back toward him. “Kiss?”
He bends over my face and kisses me softly on the lips.
“If my butt’s not in your lap, you’re not close enough.”
He moves closer and lays his arm on my leg.
We sleep through the night.
* * *
During the next several weeks, Bailee and I see Dr. Joyce Shepherd. We like her and share all our secrets. Bailee seems to improve with fewer screams in the night. My episodes come at random times but never when I sleep with Jag. Mom and Dad decide not to fight against us. The three of us spoon on my bed at least once a week, and Jag and I sometimes get time by ourselves.
Mom cancels her work at Fermilab and asks Khannan and Eddie to move back to their own house. She sees Khannan frequently and often spends the night with him.
Dad finds a job as a manager with a home improvement company.
Mom helps Gibbs enroll in an outpatient drug program and pays for sessions with Joyce. The two former rivals seem to become good friends, but I can’t help thinking Mom has a plan. I notice how she smiles at Dad, never missing an opportunity to talk or be near. Maybe I’m jaded, but I wonder if she wants to stay close in case something happens to Gibbs.
Mom talks to Bailee and me several times about our skipping, what we felt and saw each time. She records everything, and I see her typing in her office late at night. She swabs our mouths for DNA samples, and amazingly, Bailee and I are a perfect match. She wants to compare our samples with those of the twins found in the river, but she’s worried about bringing more attention to Bailee. Her driver’s license didn’t match any known records, so the police think it’s a forgery. That plus no birth certificate for school. Dad said he knows someone in Alaska who can produce documents for her. We’re still waiting on them.
Gus never returned to his hut. He said he’s enjoying his retirement, but when we try to visit, he offers excuses why we can’t. Finally, his wife calls Mom and tells her he can’t see us, that we bring back bad memories. He can’t forgive himself for what he did in the trailer.
Bailee and I start the spring semester in Jag’s public school. He introduces her to one of his friends, a very nice boy named Travis. We double date several times and have fun, but I never see her touch him. One night in March I ask her why.
“Boys want only one thing,” she answers.
“Travis is a nice guy. He’d be happy just to hold your hand.”
“For a while, but I see where his eyes look. How long would Jag stick around if you didn’t screw him?”
“We don’t screw. We love each other. He gives himself to me, and I give myself to him.”
“Lucky you.” She leaves the house. I find her on the swing near the pool, twisting the chains, then letting herself spin around.
“Where did you and your parents live?” I ask, sitting in the next swing.
“We had a house on a lake. With a pier for the boat.” She twists her seat around.
I ache for her. She must regret trying to find me. “Do you ever want to go back?”
“I’m in juvie, remember. No.” She lifts her feet and becomes a blur.
“Did you have any boyfriend besides Caden?”
“Not really. They were all older like Caden. Blow jobs for beer. Other stuff for weed.” She twists her seat again.
“I’m sorry. Were you ever happy?”
“When I was high, sure.” She releases. “Wheee.”
“Before . . . before Caden in the park?”
“BC?” She laughs. “I don’t remember. Look, Laney, I’m not going to have a boyfriend. I don’t see me ‘giving myself’ to anyone. I’m happy you have Jagger, and I’m grateful to him, but I’ll never have that kind of relationship with a boy. What happened to you AD?”
“Huh?”
“After death by Caden? The first one. You didn’t drink or do drugs or anything?”
“I was crazy angry at Dad. At the time I didn’t know why. I told my friends what he’d done, trying to get them to agree with me, but they made fun of me watching Dad and Gibbs. They got pretty cruel. One night I came out to this fort with a rope to hang myself. I didn’t, but another version of me did.”
“Really?” She stands and looks back at the tower. “From there?” She points.
“Yeah. I was going to use a climbing rope Dad gave me. I still have it in my closet. I came back to my room and had a breakdown. That’s when Mom sent me to a counselor.”
Bailee comes back to me and holds my hands. “I’m glad you didn’t do it. I’d never have met you.”
I stand facing her. “But I can’t make you happy.”
She hugs me. “You’re the only person who does.”
We walk back home holding hands.
Later, she apologizes, and we cry together on our bed. She wipes my tears then kisses my cheeks, so tenderly. A little gasp escapes my mouth.
“Is that OK?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“I can’t remember ever kissing anyone softly, like I cared. Always open-mouthed, tongue pushing or sucking. Trying to turn on or act turned on. When all I really wanted was someone to love and to love me.”
“I love you, Bailee. I wish you didn’t hurt so much.”
“I know you love me, Laney. The only person in the world who gives me any peace is you.” She touches her lips to mine, briefly.
Just a sweet, loving kiss between sisters who longed for each other their entire lives and only now can embrace.
She smiles and touches my cheek. “I love you too.”
“I wish I had called out to you that day in Cabela’s. How different our lives would have been.”
She sits up with a jerk. “What day? You saw me in Cabela’s?”
“Yes. The day before I left for Alaska, I went shopping. I heard a crash inside the blind then saw you from a distance. I thought you looked like me, but wasn’t sure. I almost yelled for you to stop, but I didn’t. Then I met Jagger. Why were you there?”
“That’s how I surfed without knowing where you were. I’d go to the store, find the blind, and sit inside until I relived Caden’s attack. Then I’d head for the park to find another version of him and maybe you.”
“If I’d met you that afternoon, you wouldn’t have gone to the park. You wouldn’t have gone missing and been captured. That regret haunts me more than anything Caden or Garrett did.”
Her eyes search my face th
en they brighten. “But you did, Laney. You did call to me. We’re somewhere together in a different world, a better one.”
Her face glows, and her eyes dance. “What could’ve happened after you called to me?”
“We would’ve noticed how we looked alike. You’d tell me your name; I’d tell you mine.”
“And we’d figure out they’re the same.”
“Duh. Mom would look for me because I was supposed to be buying boots. Then she’d call to me and walk over.”
Bailee giggles. “And I’d say, ‘Hey, Mom.’ And she’d look at me like I was crazy. Then we’d figure it out.”
“Mom would have to buy you clothes.”
“Why?”
“Because you’d be going to Alaska with me. You’d come home with us, and we’d call Dad and Gibbs. We’d fly up the next day, and I’d take you on a snow machine ride.”
“And Gus would still guard the school.”
We both cry a little, holding each other. Gus would always smile in that world.
She props herself on her elbow and looks at me, tracing my eyebrows with her fingertip, then my jaw, my lips. “Then some time in late March we’d be lying together in our bed, reminiscing about the day we found each other. And we’d sleep all night without bad dreams.”
“I’d love that.”
I show her the photos of Dad’s house and our bedroom. I tell her about Penelope in my suitcase and the power going out and what it’s like to race eighty miles an hour on the dike. We both want to try a hundred.
We sleep in each other’s arms without waking until morning.
A week later, Jag comes over for one of Gibbs’ dinners. She shows us her sonogram. Tatum, named after Dad’s mother, is due July Fourth. Bailee leaves the table early. The rest of us continue eating and talking. Finally, I realize Bailee has been gone a long time, so I go to our room to check on her.
She’s gone. My window is open. My closet door is open. I reach up to the top shelf. It’s empty. I know what she’s done. Fear floods my veins.
“Jagger!” I run out of the room into the kitchen.
Dad and Jagger stand.
“I think she went to the park.” I run out the door, Dad and Jag following. “Bailee! Bailee!” My heart is ready to burst.
I can’t run fast enough. I hear my shoes slapping the asphalt trying to keep up with the pulsing in my neck. A gust of wind flings leaves into my eyes just as I turn into the park. I cover my face and wince, trying to force the grit out.
When I open my eyes, I see her standing on the rail by the tower, a slipknot of black diamond rope around her neck.
“Bailee. Please don’t.” I want to scream and climb up to her, but I have to stay calm, try to talk her down. I see Jagger flash behind the fort. Please hurry. Save her.
Tears trickle down Bailee’s cheeks. “I don’t want to remember, Laney. I can’t . . .”
Dad, Mom, and Gibbs arrive.
I try to keep my voice steady. “We’ll skip together, Bailee. We’ll go back to our room and skip to Alaska. Tonight.”
“What do you mean, Laney?” asks Gibbs.
Dad moves next to me. “You just came into my life, Baby Girl. Don’t leave me now.”
“Please, Bailee,” Mom pleads. “Come down to us.”
Bailee turns her head, listening. Please don’t see Jagger. He’s almost there. She takes two steps closer to the corner. “Even if we do skip, I’ll still remember.”
“It won’t be the same,” I say. “We’ll be in a world where I didn’t let you leave the store, where you never saw the trailer. Where your body wasn’t broken. Please, Bailee. Come down.”
“Do what, Laney?” whispers Gibbs. “Are you leaving?”
I keep my eyes locked on Bailee. Jag creeps up behind her. So close now.
She raises her brows. “Are we leaving, Laney?”
I can’t get enough air into my lungs. “Yes, Bailee.”
Jagger is just a few feet behind her.
Her face loses all emotion. “I already left. See you there.” She steps off the rail.
“No!” I scream.
Jag leaps forward and slices the rope just before it tightens. Bailee crashes to the rubber mulch below. I run toward her.
She’s alive. I pull the rope off her neck. “Are you hurt?”
She sobs against my chest. “I want to die.”
I push her hair out of her face. “So do I sometimes, but I would never leave you. You’re not going to leave me.”
She looks into my eyes. I wipe her tears then trace her eyebrows with my finger. Then her jaw and nose.
I kiss her lips.
Jag jumps down behind us with the rope. “Is she OK?”
“Yes,” I say. “Thank you.”
Dad and Jag help us up. Bailee and I hold each other as we walk slowly back home. We both are already in Alaska, racing along the dike, giggling at Gibbs as she waddles around the house. The me who called out to Bailee in the store took us there months ago.
But if Bailee and I skip there now, the memories of what we both endured would skip with us. I would dream of Jag without ever touching him. And Caden and Garrett would be free in that world.
I remember what I told Lloyd in the airport. “Never give up.”
“Bailee, when you think you have to surrender, remember that another version of you won’t. No matter how hard it gets, there’s always some part of you who can fight a little longer. We can beat this. Together.”
We stop outside our door. I hold her shoulders. “We found each other in the river. We found each other in the trailer. I’m not letting you go. You hear?”
She closes her eyes, tears spilling out as she nods. “I won’t let you go.”
Jag puts his arms around us then Dad and Mom.
“Let me in,” says Gibbs as she pushes between Jag and Dad.
Even Bailee laughs.
After a minute, I lift my head and look at the sky. The moon is almost full—soon to be a Supermoon, the fullest of the year, and to the west I see the Pleiades close to Venus, nearing conjunction.
“Look,” I say.
Everyone lifts their heads.
“What do you see?” asks Bailee.
I point. “The sisters found love.”
Epilogue
On July Fourth, all of us gather around Gibbs as she pushes Tatum into our world. We laugh and cheer. Wet, slimy, and perfect, she opens her big eyes and gazes at her mother, like looking into a mirror. A baby Gibbs with a new chance at life. I slip my pinky into her clenched fist. She grabs tight. I never want her to let go.
Too soon, she will walk and ride bikes, making her own decisions, creating new worlds where we can’t protect her.
Bailee and I have talked about what to share with her and when. We were both told at some point, “There are very bad people in the world. You need to be careful.”
What did either of us do wrong except underestimate the meaning of bad? Should we ever tell Tatum about what Caden did to us? Haunt her early years with an evil few ever encounter?
Regardless of what choices she makes, another Tatum will do the opposite. Some Tatums will live, while others will die.
But this little girl will be protected by sisters neither Bailee nor I had until six months ago. That’s got to count for something. Maybe other Tatums will find darkness and pain inside a hunting blind, but not this Tatum.
Bailee and I have had our struggles, but Joyce has helped. We’ve given depositions. Garrett turned witness on his brother. Lawyers for both are desperately seeking a plea agreement, and there probably won’t be a trial.
Jag has been wonderful. So patient. Bailee and I go out with him, watch movies, eat, and fish with Dad.
Just hugs. Just love.
Another article came out two weeks ago, claiming both bags containing the twins had been pushed into a crevice behind the falls years ago. Someone had found pieces of black plastic still held under heavy rocks. But one person said the crevice seemed too small f
or both bodies.
Yes, but not for two from different universes.
Bailee said she started looking for me even back then. I have no doubt.
Our bones yearned to be together and touched.
Now our bodies touch as we hold Tatum between us, waving her arms and sucking the air in our house.
“Bring her to me,” says Gibbs from the sofa. “She’s hungry.” Gibbs opens her gown, exposing her breast.
“My turn,” I say.
Bailee rolls her eyes and purses her lips. “Our turn.”
We shuffle clumsily over to Gibbs, holding Tatum between us. Mom laughs and shoots video with her phone.
“You two are ridiculous,” Gibbs says, taking Tatum in her arms, pushing her nipple into the baby’s mouth until she latches on. She sucks hard and fast. Gibbs squirms. “Maybe a little less enthusiasm, Tatum.”
Dad lets Tatum grab his pinkie while she nurses.
I lean on Bailee as we watch.
“Does it hurt?” she asks.
Gibbs looks up at us with a glowing face. “Yes, a little. But I don’t ever want her to stop.”
“The best things in life come with a little pain,” says Bailee.
I squeeze her shoulders. “The key word being little.”
The thrill of racing along the dike wouldn’t be much without some threat of dying. Or catching air with our water skis as Dad pulls us around the lake.
Two opposite sensations existing in the same space at the same time.
Like the love we share and the pain we hide.
Like the choices we make and those we don’t.
* * *
THE END
Acknowledgments
I have always been fascinated by quantum physics, new dimensions, the origins and location of consciousness, and certainly the possibility of parallel universes. Perhaps one of them exists without Covid-19 and all of the death and fear and destruction of our lifestyles it has caused. Or at least one where people made better decisions at the outset and during its progress.
In any case, I hope some readers may want to explore these topics further. As Hannah Strong says, “Math and science have given us lots of explanations as to why and how things occur, but they also show us how much we don’t know.” What we don’t know is often more fascinating than what we do. Or think we do.
Some Laneys Died: A Skipping Sideways Thriller Page 26
