Sophie Last Seen

by Marlene Adelstein

  She looked up and shook her head. “Now look what you’ve done,” she muttered. Under her desk, she pressed the pencil point into her arm, and it broke with a snap.

  “All right then,” Mr. Victor said. “Shall we continue? Who can tell us some ways we can all help the environment?”

  “Who can tell us about Sophie Albright? Whatever happened to her? Is she dead or alive?” Sophie wouldn’t stop jabbering.

  Star couldn’t believe no one else heard her. The little girl ghost was like a huge mosquito buzzing in Star’s ear. With each word she said, Star felt more tense.

  Sophie pulled an apple out of her Hello Kitty backpack and bit into it, chewing loudly. “What about you, Star Silverman? Weren’t you her best friend? Didn’t you have a blood pact with her?” She jabbed her index finger at Star for emphasis. “Weren’t you supposed to be with her that day at the Zone? Didn’t you promise her you’d go?”

  “I didn’t promise,” Star said more loudly than she should have. She grabbed her books and backpack and slipped out of class as Mr. V called her name and everybody turned to look at her again.

  She ran down the hall and ducked into the girls’ bathroom. Luckily, it was empty. She went into the last stall by the window and locked the door. She put her books on the floor, closed the lid of the toilet, and sat down. Her heart was thumping loudly, practically racing out of her chest. It was bad enough having Sophie hanging around her at night in her own bedroom. But the Book Barn? And now school, too?

  She felt like reporting Sophie to the principal, but Mrs. Robbins would just laugh in her face. Star wondered if Jesse saw Sophie as she did. Star closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Finally, it was quiet. She thought that she had lost her. Breathe. Just breathe.

  “You don’t have to run away from me.”

  Star looked up, and there Sophie was, standing with her back against the closed door of the stall. Star felt like crying.

  “I don’t see you doing anything to find me. My mom may be crazy with her junk collecting, but at least she’s trying in her own demented way.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Blood sisters forever. Remember?” And she wiggled her index finger at Star.

  “What does that mean?”

  “You know, Star, not all secrets are meant to be kept forever. Not if it means life or death.”

  “What secrets? What are you talking about?”

  “You’re not thinking.” And she tapped the side of her head with her finger.

  Star needed to get rid of her once and for all. The ghost or whatever was totally creeping her out, ruining her pathetic sixteen-year-old existence. Her parents kept saying, “These are the best years of your life,” and she didn’t know what the hell they were talking about.

  She grabbed her backpack and started rummaging around in it. She pulled out her mom’s cell phone and wondered if there was anyone she could call who could help her. There was really no one. Then she had a brilliant idea. She could take Sophie’s picture. She had to make somebody believe her. A photo would be proof that Sophie existed in some shape or form. She aimed the phone at the girl and pressed the button. It flashed, and Star saw yellow spots for a minute.

  Sophie laughed. “I don’t think so, Rats.”

  She turned the phone and looked at the photo she’d taken—a perfect shot of the bathroom stall door covered in graffiti. No Sophie. No person. No ghost. Just the marked-up door. I should have known.

  Star reached into her backpack and felt around. Tic-Tacs. Hair clips. A pen. She dug deep into the bottom and pulled out a couple of pennies, lip gloss, cigs, a lighter, that note from Vicki about her crush on Jason, and paper clip. Paper clip! She straightened the clip so it was all the way open. One long piece of metal wire. Classes would be over soon, so she had to work fast.

  “Are you crazy? A paper clip?” Sophie said. “Might as well use a cigarette again.”

  Star just dug right into her arm. Literally. She wasn’t timid. It hurt, but the wire wasn’t really sharp enough. She only managed to scrape a messy, bloody hole that hurt like hell but wasn’t a real cut. The bell went off, and Sophie was still there, laughing at Star.

  “Shit.” She tossed the paper clip into her bag, unrolled a ton of toilet paper, and wrapped it around her arm as tightly as she could. As Star was pulling down her sleeve, two girls entered the bathroom, so she flushed the toilet and collected her stuff. Opening the stall door, she nearly bumped into Collette, a girl from her science class. She always sat in the front. Always knew the answers. A real brain.

  “Star, are you okay? Did you get sick?” Colette asked.

  “I didn’t feel well. But I’m okay now.” And she rushed out of there.

  It was only nine-thirty, but she pushed out of the front doors, ran down the steps, and just as she’d expected, nobody followed or said anything. Nobody really cared about her anymore. The air was cool and crisp, and it looked all Froot Loops outside—what Sophie used to call the bright berry and lemony colors of the trees in autumn. Fall used to be Star’s favorite time of year. Playing in the crunchy fallen leaves. Layering up with sweaters. Going to the Hill Town Haunted House. Now it was as if her life were one big haunted house. Her mom’s cell phone rang. Carly Simon was singing “You’re So Vain.” What a stupid ring tone. Star pulled the phone out of her bag.

  Star’s cell number showed up on the caller ID. Ophelia, at last. Thank God. “Hello?”

  “Star?”

  “Yeah, Ophelia. Where have you been? I’ve called a zillion times.”

  “Can you come meet me at Blueberry now, please?” She sounded even more upset than Star felt.

  “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  “Just come now, please.”

  “What is it? Did something happen?”

  “I need you. I’m freaking out.” And she hung up.

  Star was lightheaded and kind of dizzy. But maybe going to see Ophelia, helping someone else, would get her out of her own head. She walked down the street fast, taking long strides, and she didn’t look back. Maybe she could outrun the little girl ghost.

  Chapter Seventeen

  That morning, Jesse woke from a deep sleep to hear her cell phone vibrating on the night table. She hoped it was Barnes, even though the thought of him scared her. He had texted her last night. I C U.

  But when she looked, she saw it was Gary calling. Jesse knew she shouldn’t pick up. He’d tried to end the affair last year, and they had both agreed it was the smart thing to do, but neither had really meant it. Jesse had known he would be back. She’d known she held some kind of power over him. But this time felt different. The baby business put a whole new spin on things. The Barnes business, too. She only wished she could have been the one to end it first.

  “Please,” he said. “Meet me at Blueberry Lane. One more time. At ten thirty?”

  She looked over at Cooper’s old side of the bed, thinking of how he used to make her coffee on Sunday mornings and bring it to her in bed. He would pre-warm her cup with boiling water so it would be hot when he put in milk. “Your coffee, baby,” he would say, and she’d loved the whole ritual. Then a different memory eclipsed the first—Cooper dashing out of the house one evening after a call from Cindy about “computer problems” at his office. Right then, the haze of denial lifted, and the truth and the subtext of all their fights and sniping became clear.

  Cooper had been having an affair with Cindy before Sophie went missing. He had gotten Jesse to believe it was after, but it wasn’t, and somewhere deep inside, she’d known all along. She and Cooper had gone to therapy, but the sessions had mostly revolved around day-to-day coping with a missing child. But what if we’d made more time for each other? Hadn’t taken each other for granted?

  She’d known deep down about his affair but had chosen to close her eyes. She wondered if Carol had done the same with Gary. She assumed so. She wished she could just tell Gary to fuck off right now.

  Then her thoughts ran to Barnes—a
new man who could hurt her. Who am I kidding? Gary was familiar and safe, and right now, she could use a dose of that.

  “Jess?” Gary said.

  “Ten thirty.”

  SHE DROVE TOO FAST down Bug Hill Road then cut over to Creamery, taking back roads, which were bumpy with deep potholes, reminders of last year’s rough winter.

  “Froot Loops,” Jesse said to Saint Anthony when she saw the leaves at their intense peak colors. She turned to the dog, who was sitting upright in the passenger seat beside her. “Don’t ask me what I’m doing. Lila saw it coming, and I didn’t listen.” She waited as if he would respond, then petted his head. “I wish you’d say something.”

  The drive to 235 Blueberry Lane normally took fifteen minutes, but for once, Jesse didn’t want to be late, and she sped through town. As she passed Church Street, she got a glimpse of the remains of the Book Barn: a collapsed roof, charred posts, and beams all tilted, bent, and blackened. It was an ugly, disturbing sight. The air smelled like burnt toast, and tiny flecks of ash still dotted the air. She had an uneasy feeling and tried to calm herself with a few deep breaths. What Barnes had said the other night replayed in her head. “I believe you’re close to something.” But what? She felt like a stranger in her own skin.

  She picked up the small glass oval stone from the plastic shelf under her radio and rubbed it between her fingers. Lila had offered it to her during a hypnotherapy session, and Jesse had picked the green stone from a dish of multi-colored ones because it made her think of summer. Grass. Basil. Mint. All things she still found pleasant.

  Right at that moment she didn’t know what to visualize. Part of her wanted to tell Gary off. To send him packing once and for all. She had been using him as a crutch for too long. She was clutching onto remnants of her past: the house, Gary, and even Cooper with her late-night calls to him. But if she let go and got involved with Barnes, it would just be something else for her to screw up.

  During one of their last sessions, Lila had asked Jesse to keep a journal of her feelings. What she felt before a rendezvous with Gary. What she felt after. What she felt before she called Cooper late at night. What she felt after they’d hung up. But Jesse didn’t want to keep track of all that. Jesse had looked at Lila and asked if numbness counted as a feeling.

  Lila had been wearing a colorful skirt in a pretty Indian print and tall leather boots, very stylish. Jesse had looked down at her tattered jeans and paint-splattered shirt. She was probably a few years younger than Lila, but she looked and felt much older. She wondered if it was weird to be jealous of her therapist and if she’d have to put those feelings down in the journal, too.

  “What about during the sex with Gary?” Lila asked.

  “The sex?” Jesse laughed. “Sounds rather clinical.”

  “What would you rather I call it?”

  “A drug.”

  “And what do you feel while you’re doing this... drug?”

  Jesse closed her eyes and remembered the amazing videos of a murmuration of starlings that she and Sophie would watch over and over. Sophie had read about it and taught her mother the term. The large mass of birds would fly so fast, swooping into unbelievable hairpin turns all together as if one. She looked up at Lila and said, “Like a starling. Free.”

  “Free... as in liberated?”

  “I don’t know. Free, as in I can breathe.”

  “And afterward?”

  “Afterward, my stomach growls. I feel empty and need to eat.”

  “Do you think sex with Gary will bring Sophie back?”

  That had never occurred to her. She shook her head. “Of course not. Sex with Gary is just a momentary blip.”

  “Is that what it is to him?”

  As heartless as it seemed, Jesse didn’t really care. She did know that the sneaking around, meeting in vacant houses, although risky, added a level of excitement. A shared secret. “Honestly, I have no idea. You’d have to ask him.”

  Lila was always pushing Jesse, and she’d gotten tired of being pushed.

  The smoothness of her green stone helped calm her. She held it up and touched it to her face, sliding it up and down along her cheek. It felt cool. She thought again of Barnes. He was stirring up old, dormant emotions. Those little butterflies in her stomach fluttered. She put her stone back on its little shelf.

  She pulled up next to the house on Blueberry. Surprisingly, Gary, who was usually early, wasn’t there yet. She scratched Saint Anthony’s chest and fed him a biscuit from her pocket. She thought of Barnes, who carried treats for the dogs he met on his travels. She liked that about him.

  She went to the back door, but it was locked and had Gary’s lock box around the door knob. She’d never been the first to arrive. She sat down on the stoop and waited. She kept checking her watch and cell phone, but he hadn’t called or texted. Even though he’d never done it before, Jesse imagined him changing his mind and standing her up. Then she imagined him getting in a car accident or being pulled over for speeding. Both seemed unlikely as well. She checked her watch again and thought about him getting in a big fight with Carol right before he was to leave. Reaching over, she rubbed behind Saint Anthony’s ear and waited some more.

  After twenty minutes and still no Gary, Jesse heard voices coming from the cabin next door, and Saint Anthony heard them, too. He gave a few warning barks. The place had been closed up for the season, so she got up and went to investigate.

  “Hello? Anyone here?” She approached the door of the cabin, which was ajar. Cautiously, she stepped inside then stopped abruptly when she saw Star Silverman sitting on the couch. “Star? What are you doing here?”

  The dog trotted in, his tail wagging furiously. He sniffed the floor, the couch, and everything on his way over to the kitchenette. He shoved his snout into the garbage and snuffled around in there.

  “Nothing. I’m leaving.” Star jumped up quickly.

  “Shouldn’t you be in school?” Jesse stood in the doorway, blocking it.

  Not making eye contact, Star said, “I’m on my way. Missed the bus. You know, so much commotion at home with the fire and all.” It was obvious she was lying. She tried to creep around Jesse and slip out.

  “Hold on there,” Jesse said, putting her hand on Star’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

  “Are you, like, following me or what?”

  “No, I’m not following you. I’m meeting someone next door. My realtor. I heard voices over here, and I knew it had been closed up.” She glanced around the place, her eyes darting back and forth. She sniffed the air. Is that Sour Patch Watermelon?

  Then there was a loud thump outside from around the back. They both jumped and looked at each other.

  “What was that?” Jesse asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  Saint Anthony barked, poking his snout under the closed bathroom door. Jesse heard the water running.

  “Who’s in there?” she asked.

  Star shrugged.

  Jesse walked over to the bathroom, turned the knob, and went in. Star followed. The one small window was wide open. The water was running in the sink. Jesse turned off the faucet then stepped up to the window and stuck her head out. She looked down and around. Star came up behind her and looked out at the ground then off in the distance. A figure was running through the woods. Just a flash of red and a bit of blue dashing away through the trees.

  “Who’s that?” Jesse asked.

  Star paused as if thinking about how to respond. “This girl I met at the Book Barn. Ophelia. She needed a place to stay for a little bit. I told her about Blueberry. No one was living here, so I thought it would be okay. She must have gotten spooked and jumped out the window.”

  “A girl? Was she wearing a red hoodie?”

  Star didn’t answer.

  “Bad haircut?”

  She swallowed then blinked.

  “Watermelon gum?”

  “What? Are you psychic?”

  Jesse went back to the window and looked
out again. She spoke in a monotone voice, “If birds suddenly fly off all at once, most likely a predator has just visited.”

  “What?” Star said.

  Jesse turned back to Star. “I think she’s the girl that detective is looking for. April Johnson. I think she’s a runaway... Why didn’t you tell the detective you’d met her?”

  “I didn’t know she was the one he was looking for. They look totally different. And she said her name was Ophelia. I thought it would be okay if she hung out here while she figured out what to do next.”

  “Have you been coming here? That’s breaking and entering, Star. You could get in trouble for that.”

  “I was only trying to help her. She called me this morning while I was at school. She sounded all upset.” She looked out the window again, but “Ophelia” was long gone. “Should we go after her?”

  “It’s too late. We’ll never catch her now.”

  Star reached in her pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and looked at it. Shaking her head, she shoved it back. “I’m going to go now.”

  Jesse bent down and picked up a pink shirt off the bathroom floor. Jesse held it up—a pink T-shirt with a little bird and the word tweet on it. Just like the shirt Sophie had wanted at the Zone That Day. The one Jesse wouldn’t buy for her. She gasped. “Where’d you get this?”

  “It’s not mine,” Star said.

  “What’s it doing here?”

  “I told you. I don’t know. It’s not mine.” Star bit her fingernail nervously.

  “Was it that girl’s?” Jesse demanded.

  “I don’t know. Stop asking me so many questions.”

  Why would the girl leave it? Where did she get it? Jesse’s head was spinning. She stared at the shirt then brought it up to her nose and caught a whiff of that sweet watermelon scent. She looked up at Star. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  Star shook her head, looking scared.

  Jesse waved the T-shirt at her. “This is another sign. She’s dropping clues, like birdseed. Leading us somewhere.”