by Tom Deady
“She was at the hospital when you told me she was helping Aunt Amy with the twins.” It wasn’t a question. Her voice came out lifeless. How could I have been so clueless?
“We thought it was for the best. There was nothing anybody could say or do to make your mom feel better. I thought she’d get over it in time, but she never did. Eventually she just, I don’t know, stopped caring. She didn’t want anything to do with me.”
Dad stopped talking, his face flushed. Hannah realized with a sick feeling he was talking about sex. She didn’t want to know any more. She wanted the conversation over.
“I begged her to go see someone, a marriage counselor, but she refused. Said it wouldn’t help. Then she started going out in the evening. She told me she was going to church. She said it helped her cope. I offered to go with her, but she said it was better for her to be alone.”
Hannah’s stomach clenched and sweat broke out on her head. It was all she could do not to run from the room. Why did I think I wanted this? Her hands started to shake, then the tremors spread until her whole body was trembling.
“It seemed to be helping. She became more attentive to you and more involved. She was almost like her old self for a while.”
He stopped again, this time with a faint smile on his face and a faraway look in his eyes. Scout raised his head from where he slept next to the couch and whimpered, like he was questioning Dad.
“Remember we rented the cottage on Cape Cod? She seemed happy for the first time since losing the baby. Relaxing on the beach, going out for ice cream, that night we went—”
“To the drive-in.” Hannah finished with a laugh. They had gone to see a horror double feature. When they’d gotten back to the cottage, a storm had rolled in and knocked the power out. Dad had kept pretending he heard someone outside, and Mom had freaked out. They had all laughed so much that night. Then something really had crashed outside and they had all screamed. Hannah remembered feeling real fear but still being unable to control her giggles. A shutter had come loose in the wind, and Dad had gone out to fix it. When he’d come in, he’d been soaked from the rain and they had all cracked up again.
Hannah looked up to find her father staring at her. Their eyes met and she knew they were sharing the memory. She offered him a smile, encouraging him to keep going.
“That was the last time I saw her happy, I think. By the end of the vacation, she was withdrawn and agitated. I caught her talking on her cell phone a few times and she would hang up quickly. She said she was talking to Aunt Amy.” He let out another strangled attempt at a laugh. “I remember thinking that Aunt Amy was the story we told you when we were lying.
“When we got back from the trip, she started going out every night. She would leave as soon as I got home, wouldn’t even eat dinner with us. She’d come in late and she became more and more distant. I confronted her, telling her we had to do something. If not for us, for you. She seemed to get it. She never pulled out of her despair, but she did seem like she was trying again. She went to parent-teacher night; she stayed home to give out candy on Halloween. Then...”
Hannah’s memory on this part was clear. Dad might have thought she’d been trying, or maybe he was just saying that to paint Mom in a better light, but she remembered things differently. Mom had been so disconnected by then, so cold and indifferent.
“Then she was gone,” Hannah whispered.
Her voice cracked, and hot tears fell frantically. She was caught between heartbreak and anger.
“Then she was gone.” Her father repeated the words, his tone somehow making them worse, more hopeless. “I just don’t know what made her leave. I mean, leave me, sure, people leave spouses all the time. But, to cut ties with her sister? With her own daughter?”
Hannah looked up.
Dad looked lost; his voice came out in a raspy whisper. “I just don’t know why she left.”
Her anguish was partly from the story, but mostly because she knew he was lying.
Hannah met Ashley in town at May’s Diner, across from Champlain Park. It was about the closest thing Hopeland had to a landmark. The converted train car drew quite a bit of tourist traffic on weekends. The two had watched when May’s had been featured on an episode of Diners, Drive-ins and Dives a few years ago, officially making it Hopeland’s claim to fame.
The diner was the very definition of nostalgic. From its black-and-white checkered floor to the garish red upholstery on the booths, it reeked of the old Happy Days reruns she’d watched with her dad. The waitresses wore old-fashioned one-piece uniforms and a fully restored Rock-Ola jukebox stood in the corner. They served breakfast all day, along with burgers and fries, and their “world famous” milkshakes. There was neon everywhere.
Hannah walked in. Ashley took one look at her and jumped up to give her a hug.
“Okay girl, spill it.”
The waitress had taken their order and left them alone. The diner wasn’t crowded—it was too early for the lunch rush, and the breakfast crowd was long gone.
“That obvious, huh?” Hannah said, eyes locked on the table, unable to meet Ash’s gaze.
“You’re a human billboard for sadness. What the hell happened?”
Hannah recapped the conversation with Dad. Ashley stayed quiet throughout, letting her get it all out. Hannah’s voice dropped to a whisper at times, and it shook at intervals, but she made it through without crying.
“And?” Ashley said when she finally finished.
“And he was lying.” Saying the words out loud felt like a betrayal to her father.
Ashley just stared at her and Hannah’s face began to burn, her eyes filling. She tried to blink away the tears. How does she always know?
“Wait, lying about which part?” Ashley asked.
Hannah sniffed, hoping snot wasn’t running down her face. “That’s the thing, I’m not sure. I think he knows why she left.”
Ashley nodded and Hannah saw her friend’s mind spinning, turning this information over and looking at it from every side like a Rubik’s Cube.
Ashley played the part of the cool girl at school and her grades weren’t the best, but she was smart. Hannah’s dad called it “street smart” but it was more than that. She was smart about the things that mattered to her.
Outside, a car horn honked, and someone yelled. Hannah jumped and jerked her head to see, but it was just someone waving to a friend, nothing malicious. The waitress brought their lunch—a cheeseburger for each of them on a plate heaped with fries.
Ashley stared out the window for a while before asking her next question. “What do you think is more likely, another guy or drugs?”
Hannah stopped, a French fry in mid-flight to her mouth. She didn’t want to contemplate either scenario. Sure, she’d thought about both, but mostly in the lonely hours of the night when sleep wouldn’t come. Throwing the possibilities out there in the light of day made them seem so much worse. So wrong.
“I don’t know. It’s hard to imagine either one. Toward the end, before she left, she was, like, dead inside. I can’t picture it being another guy. I think she would have acted different.”
“What about drugs? They can make people act weird, right?”
Hannah shrugged, pushing a fry around in a pool of ketchup. Mom rarely ever drank other than an occasional beer with Dad. She’d never gotten into the whole wine drinking craze and Hannah couldn’t remember her ever being drunk.
“It just doesn’t seem like her, you know?” She looked up at Ashley. “You were around a lot. What do you think?”
Ashley was back to staring out the window. Hannah assumed she was checking out some boy, that’s what she was usually doing. Then her face changed, became confused.
“Ash? What is it?” Hannah turned, following Ashley’s line of vision.
She saw a handful of people walking by, a few cars on the road, nothing unusual.
“That lady across the street, wearing the stupid hat and the dark sunglasses—see her?” Ashley raised a
finger, as if to point, then thought better of it.
Hannah scanned the street, finally locking in on the woman.
“Yeah, so?”
“She’s been staring over here for a few minutes. I think it’s the creepy librarian that was watching me the other day.”
Hannah looked again, committing every detail about the woman to memory. If it was her, it would be kind of weird. She did seem to be staring in their direction. Suddenly the woman turned and walked away, as if she’d seen them looking. Hannah noted she was walking in the direction of the library.
“I think it was her, Hannah. You saw her, right?”
Ashley’s eyes were wide. Hannah wasn’t sure if it was excitement or fear.
Hannah nodded, back to dipping her fries in ketchup and eating them while she pondered the possibilities.
“Hey, so what do you think? You never answered.” Hannah was still thinking about her mom.
Ashley had deconstructed her burger and was eating just the meat patty with the tomato.
“About your mom? I get what you’re saying, I really do. Don’t you think everybody says that in this situation? I think people just don’t see what’s going on around them sometimes. Maybe they don’t want to see, you know?”
Hannah looked at her plate. Ash’s words hurt. She hadn’t meant them to, but words have sharp edges, they can cut whenever they want. Hers also had a truth to them.
I didn’t even know Mom was pregnant.
She felt queasy. The remains of her burger and fries, appetizing a few minutes ago, now looked greasy and unappealing. She pushed the plate away.
“Hey, Hannah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
“I know, it’s fine. It’s just hard.” She offered Ashley a smile. “And you still haven’t answered.”
“Oh, definitely drugs. If she just lost a baby, she probably wasn’t feeling very sexy and up to going out and seducing strange men. If she was depressed and maybe started taking something for it, she could have gotten hooked. It happens.”
It was times like this that Ashley made Hannah feel like a child. The way she casually spoke about adult topics made her seem so much older. She was right. It made sense. Just because Mom didn’t drink, didn’t mean she couldn’t get addicted to anti-depressants after having a miscarriage.
“You are wise beyond your years, Ashley Wallace. That’s a sound theory.”
Ash made a face and tossed a French fry at me. “Such high praise. Let’s go to the library and see if that was Bitch Face watching us.”
They walked into the library, and Hannah instantly had the urge to start giggling. It happened to her any time she was somewhere that she was supposed to be quiet or serious, usually at church or school. When the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind them, she let out a squeal and did start laughing. Ashley grabbed her arm, shaking with laughter as well. They got themselves under control and stepped through the small foyer into the main part of the building, drawing angry stares from those seeking quiet and solitude.
They looked around for Ashley’s librarian. The front desk was deserted except for an older man waiting impatiently for something. Hannah couldn’t see anyone that looked familiar.
“I don’t see either librarian that was here the other day,” Ashley whispered.
As they approached the entrance to the research room, they almost crashed into a woman hurrying out with a large volume in her arms.
Ashley gasped. It took Hannah a beat longer to recognize the print on the woman’s skirt. The startled expression on the librarian’s face turned to one of recognition, then something that looked like fury.
“Excuse us,” Hannah mumbled and pushed Ashley through the door, afraid she was going to confront the woman and cause a scene.
Once in the research room, they turned to make sure the woman was gone. Ashley’s eyes were wide, and she had a strange look on her face. Hannah understood. She had been looking into the missing girl and that woman had overheard. Then she turned up to watch the two of them at the diner? It meant they were digging up something the woman was afraid of them finding out.
“I don’t see the other librarian, and she certainly isn’t going to help us.” Ashley sounded more angry than scared.
Ashley was right; they were on their own unless another librarian showed up.
“It’s fine, Ash. We’ve got this. We’ll start over there on the computers and then go old school with the microfiche thingy if we have to.”
Ashley held up a fist and they bumped and then settled into their respective chairs. Hannah began feeding words into Google that she thought would pinpoint the commune of hippies Dad had told her about. Before long, she was engrossed, following link after link to the never-ending sources of information in cyberspace.
The names of the sites started out as credible outlets—newspapers and magazines that mentioned the commune in general-interest stories about the fifties and sixties. She kept clicking, following the trail to the more obscure corners of the Internet. She landed on a blog that featured posts about everything from time slips to global warming. She wasn’t sure about the credibility of the site, but it was the most useful information she’d stumbled on so far. She was immersed in the story when the small hairs on the back of her neck tingled.
Someone is watching me.
She glanced at Ashley, but she was transfixed by whatever she had dug up. Hannah turned and saw the librarian standing in the doorway. The woman frowned and started walking toward them. Hannah reached out and nudged Ashley.
“Hey, what?” She noticed the woman approaching. “Oh, boy.”
The librarian cleared her throat loudly, even though they were already looking up at her. She was clearly reading what was on their screens. She attempted a smile. “Can I help you girls find anything?”
Hannah looked at Ashley, who raised her eyebrows. Should I?
Hannah nodded slightly.
“I was actually hoping Mrs. Cheevers would be here. She was extremely helpful the other day. You know, when you were staring at me while talking on your cell phone?”
The librarian’s face hardened, then quickly went back to the forced smile.
“Yes, I do remember seeing you here. I was commenting to my fiancé how refreshing it was to see a young girl at the library during summer vacation. It doesn’t happen often.”
Ashley flashed a grin of her own, but the look in her eyes didn’t match her smile.
“Is it just as refreshing to see two young girls eating lunch at the diner during summer vacation?”
Her voice dripped with sarcasm and she went so far as to bat her eyelashes at the woman. Hannah’s heart was already beating too fast. With the confrontation escalating, her hands and face began to tingle. She licked her lips.
What was Ashley doing?
The librarian’s smile faltered again, this time she made no attempt to recover. “Are you accusing me of spying on you?”
Ashley’s shrugged. “If the shoe fits, and all that.”
This was not going the way Hannah had hoped. She wanted to drag Ashley out of there. The woman was staring Ashley down with a look of annoyance bordering on hatred.
“I think it’s time you girls find somewhere else to spend your last days... of summer, I mean.”
The woman plastered the smile back on her face, but there was no mistaking the threat in her words.
“I’ve got a better idea,” Ashley countered. “Why don’t you step off and go get Mrs. Cheevers? I’ve got things to do and I’m sure your fiancé is waiting for an update.”
The woman stepped closer to Ashley, their faces inches apart.
“I don’t think you’re going to be seeing Mrs. Cheevers around here anymore. She... retired.”
In the electric silence that followed, a strange mewling sound began to rise. It took a moment for Hannah to realize it was coming from her. She grabbed Ashley and pulled her away from the woman. Ash let herself be led away, but her eyes never left the librarian.<
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“You might want to be more like your friend. Fear can be a good thing to keep you out of trouble.”
Hannah dragged Ashley through the main library and out the front door, finally gulping in a breath. They looked at each other. Ashley’s bravado was gone, replaced by confusion and fear.
“Hannah, what do we do?”
They sat in the gazebo at Champlain Park sipping Cokes they’d bought at the convenience store. They had decided walking home along the winding, deserted country roads would be too scary and staying in plain sight was smarter. Hannah agreed to call Dad for a ride later.
“What just happened?” Ashley said, after gulping her Coke.
Hannah looked at her for a long moment. Did she not remember she was the one that set things in motion? “I think you poked the bear.”
Ash took another long drink of Coke, let out a loud burp, then sighed.
“I thought that’s what you wanted me to do. You kind of nodded at me?”
The girls never spoke about the weird telepathy they shared, but rather just accepted it. This was the first time it had been wrong.
“I did, but I thought you were going to ask her for help finding out about the missing girl, not confront her.”
Ashley sat up, nearly choking on her drink. “Hannah. I never got to tell you what I did find.”
Hannah sipped her own Coke, relishing the cool burn on her dry throat. The sounds of children laughing in the park and birds chattering in the trees faded. An eerie calm settled over them and Hannah looked around to make sure the rest of the world was still out there, still moving. She knew one thing for certain: whatever Ashley was about to say was going to put them across a line. There would be no turning back from whatever was going on. They would have to see it through. The thought terrified her.
“First, the Internet is a weird place.”
Hannah smiled. No matter the circumstances, Ashley always made her smile.
“Second, I’m pretty sure I know what happened to Abigail Hart, and that it’s her foot Scout found in the forest.”
Before Hannah had a chance to respond, Ashley dropped the bomb.
