This Is How I Lied

by Heather Gudenkauf

  “Whoa now, everyone settle down,” the younger of the two officers said.

  “Mr. Brady, let’s get you inside and cleaned up and we can talk about it.”

  “I don’t want her anywhere near my shop,” Nick snapped. He turned to Nola, blood still streaming down his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stanch the bleeding. “Go ahead and press charges and I’ll go after you for calling in a fake emergency.”

  Nola turned on Nick. “She didn’t love you back, Nick. She finally figured out what an ass you were.” Nola kept her voice low, measured. “And you couldn’t stand it.”

  “She’s crazy. Make her stay away from me,” Nick said and retreated into the store, letting the door shut with a glass-quivering slam.

  “Ms. Knox,” the officer began, “do you really want to press charges against him? You instigated the matter. I’m really hoping that your call was a case of mistaken identity because if not you could be in serious trouble.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” Nola said trying to look apologetic. “I had no idea it was Nick and it looked like someone was breaking in, it really did. I was trying to help. And no, I don’t want to press charges.”

  The two officers looked relieved. “Stay away from him,” the older officer ordered and they climbed back into their car and drove away.

  Nola walked back to her truck and carefully climbed into the cab. Once inside she slowly and methodically removed her right shoe and placed it on the seat next to her. Bright red beads of blood freckled the top of the leather. This worked out even better than she hoped. Nola glanced out the window. The sun had risen and the last of the bystanders had moved on.

  Nola raised her phone to her ear and began the short drive to the house where she would prepare the blood sample for Maggie.

  “Jesus, Nola,” Maggie hissed when she answered. “You shouldn’t be calling me.”

  “Relax.” Nola laughed. “I bet you get family members calling about cases all the time. No one is going to think twice.”

  “It’s not a good idea.” Maggie’s voice was hushed and strained.

  “I kept my end of the bargain,” Nola said. “I have what you need.”

  “We need to talk about this.” Maggie’s voice dropped again so that Nola had to strain to hear her. “I don’t think I can do it.”

  Nola turned onto her street and saw a U-Haul truck parked in front of the Kennedy place. She saw Maggie’s brother, Colin, and three other men carrying two large sculptures. As she crept closer she saw that the metal sculptures were in the shape of horses.

  “Nola, are you still there?” Maggie asked. “I mean it, we need to talk about this. Nola!” Maggie insisted. “I can’t do it.”

  “You don’t want to fuck with me, Maggie,” Nola snapped into the phone. “Come over tonight and I’ll give you what you need. We’re doing this.”

  Nola disconnected and examined Colin’s artwork. The faces of the horses were cut and carved into regal expressions and the manes, flanks and legs were bent and folded in ways that conveyed movement. The sculptures were stunning.

  Colin Kennedy was full of surprises, Nola thought, remembering the awkward teen who was overshadowed by his younger sister. She stepped from her truck and watched as the men loaded the sculptures into the U-Haul. Maybe it was time to stop by and get reacquainted.

  But first she had work to do. Nola reached inside the truck, grabbed her bloody shoe and went inside.

  EVE KNOX

  Friday, December 22, 1995

  1:45 p.m.

  Eve trudged up the hill toward home. She was starting to feel guilty about the way she’d yelled at Nola but then made herself stop. Why did she do that? Eve was always the one to feel bad when it was Nola who was in the wrong.

  A stitch gnawed at Eve’s side and by the time she reached the top of the street she was sweating and out of breath. She loosened her scarf and leaned against the grimy telephone pole and bent over to examine the hole in her jeans. Her knee had stopped bleeding but bloodstains dotted the fabric. Damn it, Nola, she thought. Why did she have to be so childish? So mean? It was bad enough that Eve was constantly keeping their mother, who was so easily overwhelmed, on track with the bills and household chores, but she also had to serve as Nola’s protector and moral compass. It was too much sometimes.

  As she approached her neighbor’s house, Eve crossed the street. Though the Olhauser home, a pretty periwinkle blue, with its sharp peaks and fanciful latticework appeared to be straight out of a fairy tale, the place made Eve uneasy. The son, Daryl, gave her the creeps. In his early twenties, Daryl would show up periodically at his mother’s home for weeks, sometimes months at a time and from Eve’s vantage point did little to contribute to the household.

  To be fair, Nell Olhauser was a great neighbor. Petite and stooped, Nell would bring them freshly made lefse sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar and warm apple cake as thanks for shoveling her walk or mowing her lawn.

  It seemed like Daryl would emerge from the house every time Eve would get home from school or Nick’s. Like clockwork, he’d come out onto the front steps blinking rapidly into the bright sun as if he’d just woken up from a nap or had been waiting for her in a darkened room. He’d light a cigarette and watch her pass by. Through the haze of cigarette smoke, Eve could feel the heaviness of his eyes on her as she rushed into the safety of their home. Daryl never actually said anything. Eve couldn’t remember a time when they ever exchanged a greeting but she knew she didn’t like him.

  She tried to tell her mother about how he made her feel like one of the bugs that Nola collected and pinned to index cards. Like she was a specimen, something to be examined, probed. Her mother just laughed and said that she should be flattered. She was a pretty girl; of course men were going to look at her.

  Nola, on the other hand, had no problem calling Daryl out. What are you looking at? Nola would yell when she caught him staring at Eve. Or Take a picture, it’ll last longer. Daryl would just smile lazily and blow a ring of smoke their way. Eve would hiss at Nola to shut up, to not encourage him.

  Maggie said she had the same experiences with Daryl and the two finally went to Chief Kennedy to complain. He’s gross, Dad, Maggie said. He just stands there and stares at us. Eve nodded her head in agreement. It freaks us out.

  Chief Kennedy finally walked over to Nell’s house, knocked on the door and went inside. Maggie and Eve watched anxiously from the window until he materialized thirty minutes later with a foam plate filled with star-shaped butter cookies. He shouldn’t bother you anymore, the chief said, holding the plate out to the girls. But if he does, just let me know.

  Daryl still stared, though he tried to be less obvious about it. Now he watched out of the corner of his eye and Eve thought she could see shadows from behind windows. Whenever she was home alone, she made sure the curtains were closed tight.

  Eve closed the front door and locked the dead bolt. Then she ran around the house, checking to make sure that each window and the back door were also locked tight. If only they had a dog, Eve thought and then caught herself. A sharp yelp of laughter erupted from her chest and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

  Eve had begged for a dog for years, but her mother always said no. They were too busy; the house was too small; the girls were too irresponsible to take care of it. Now Eve wondered if there was more to their mother’s decision. Had she known, on some level, that a dog, a pet of any kind would be in danger in this house? It was an awful thought.

  Eve took the stairs two at a time and went directly to her bedroom. She lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling with its opaque stars that glowed in the dark when she switched off her bedside lamp. How had everything gotten so out of control, she wondered. Eve tried to push the thoughts aside and in the quiet stillness of the empty house her eyes grew heavy.

  When Eve opened her eyes again the clock next to her bed
read 2:45. With a sigh she slid from the bed and blearily made her way to the bathroom. She locked herself inside, wriggling the doorknob a few times to make sure it was secure. She hoped that Nola wouldn’t come home anytime soon. Her mother worked until at least seven.

  If she was lucky, she’d have the house to herself until her mother came home that evening. Eve pulled off her shirt, catching a glimpse of the bruises that Nick had left behind. They were so ugly, made her feel so ashamed. At least it was the middle of winter and she could wear long sleeves and pants to keep the bruises covered until they faded.

  Eve slid her jeans down, pulling them gingerly over her scraped knees. Why was it that every single person who claimed to love her found a way to hurt her?

  Eve stared at herself in the mirror looking for an answer. Was there something in her eyes or in the way she held her head that said, Pick me, I’m weak. I won’t stand up to you. But she did stand up for herself. She broke up with Nick and she stood up to her mother the night before. When Nola pushed her, she pushed back.

  Eve turned the shower handle to the hottest setting, running her fingers beneath the spray until steam began to fill the room. She stepped over the lip of the tub and let the water stream over her body. Someone had used the last of the shampoo so Eve grabbed the chunky yellow slab of soap from the edge of the bathtub and rubbed it into her hair. Its sharp medicinal smell burned her eyes and nose but still she scrubbed and scrubbed her body until it ached.

  She rinsed the suds from her body and then lathered up again trying to get the lingering smell of Nick’s cologne and the stench of the dead dog from her skin. Eve knew she had to be imagining the odors that she was sure were clinging to her skin. Nick barely touched her today; the dog was too far away for her even to catch a whiff, but still the scents were there and when she finally stepped from the shower her body was rubbed raw and pink.

  A sudden rap on the bathroom door caused Eve to startle and she pressed a towel to her mouth to stifle a scream. “Eve,” came Nola’s raspy voice. “I’m home.”

  Eve remained still, the water sliding down her body and into a puddle at her feet.

  “Eve.” Nola knocked again. “Open up.”

  Eve ignored her.

  “Are you hungry? I can make you a grilled cheese,” Nola offered.

  Eve wrapped a towel around herself and ran a comb through her wet hair.

  “Come on, I know you’re in there,” Nola said, frustration creeping into her voice. “Just come out. I want to talk to you.”

  Eve was used to Nola’s attempts at apologies. They were always the same. First, Nola would pretend that nothing had happened. That there was no argument or harsh words. Then she would offer to do something nice for Eve. Wash the dishes for her or vacuum the living room or make her a grilled cheese sandwich.

  Eve remained quiet knowing what was yet to come.

  “Seriously, Eve.” Nola’s voice rose. “I didn’t hurt that dog. I promise. It was already dead.” Nola paused for a response. She wasn’t going to get one. “Fine, don’t talk to me. I don’t care. You’re supposed to be the mature one but you’re not. You’re just like everyone else. Mean and stupid and judgmental!”

  Eve wanted to laugh. How could Nola not understand how twisted and awful her actions were?

  “You’re a horrible sister and I hate you!” Nola screeched, kicking at the door.

  For a second, Eve thought the door was going to splinter but it held. Nola gave a few more kicks and then stopped. Eve could hear her breathing on the other side of the door.

  Eve knew she couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever. She put her ear to the door to see if she could hear Nola. It was quiet. Slowly she opened the door, looked to the left and to the right down the hallway. Nola was nowhere in sight. She stepped lightly so as not to let the floorboards creak beneath her feet and hurried to her bedroom.

  She opened the door to find Nola sitting cross-legged on her bed. “Jesus, Nola,” Eve said, pressing her hand against her heart. “Get out of my room.” Nola stayed put, her fingers digging into the bedding as if to prove she wasn’t going anywhere without a fight. “I mean it. Get out of my room.” Eve crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I can’t even look at you. And you better call Mom and tell her you’re home. You don’t want me talking to her right now.”

  “It’s not what you think,” Nola said, and there was a desperation in her voice that Eve wasn’t used to hearing. “I didn’t hurt the dog. It was already dead,” Nola explained again. “The school here is terrible. I don’t get the chance to study real animals. Not really...”

  Eve looked at Nola with disgust. “It doesn’t matter why you did it, Nola. It’s weird and creepy. You better hope that this doesn’t get out or it will be another thing you’ll never live down.”

  “You’re not going to tell anyone.” Nola said this, so sure of herself. So certain that she would get what she wanted.

  “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t,” Eve said. “Now leave. I need to get dressed.”

  Nola hesitated as if wanting to argue some more but Eve didn’t give her the chance. “Get out! Or I’m going to call Mom right now.”

  Nola slid off the bed and sidled past Eve, a knowing smile on her face. Eve slammed the door behind her.

  Even if Nola was telling the truth about finding the dog already dead it was still wrong. Normal people did not behave this way.

  Nola had always been fascinated with anatomy, had talked about studying to be a vet since she was little, but to dissect a dog? Surely the dog belonged to someone, had a name. This was someone’s pet. How had it died then, if Nola wasn’t the cause? Of old age or from being struck by a car? Maybe when she wasn’t so mad at Nola, she’d ask.

  Eve dressed in her only other pair of jeans and a clean sweater. She trotted down the stairs to see Nola putting on her purple coat. “Where are you going?” Eve asked.

  “None of your business,” Nola snapped, pulling on a pair of gloves.

  Eve went to the window and looked outside. “I think Daryl is back at it. Be careful. Have you seen anybody hanging around here? Nick or another strange man? An old guy wearing a red sweatshirt?”

  “Paranoid much?” Nola asked. “I haven’t seen Daryl and no, I haven’t seen Nick or Hobo Santa Claus either.” She opened the front door and stepped outside into the cold.

  “Ha, ha,” Eve deadpanned. Behind her the phone began to ring. She lifted the receiver and placed it to her ear.

  “Listen, bitch,” Nick hissed into the phone. “No one walks away from me.”

  NOLA KNOX

  Thursday, June 18, 2020

  Once inside the house, Nola went down to the basement and moved the junk from in front of the door to her workroom. When she stepped inside, she breathed a sigh of contentment. Using Nick’s blood that dripped on her shoe, Nola prepared a small tube. She would get it to Maggie later today. She retrieved the pen with the dot of Nick’s DNA from her pocket and put it in the refrigerator that hummed in the corner of the room. Nola had plans to use that sample for something else. Reluctantly, she stepped back into the main basement area and looked around at all of her mother’s garbage. She had lived like this for way too long. Maybe it was time to reclaim some of the space for her own things.

  She walked over to where she had hidden most of her collection. She moved the box filled with Christmas decorations and lifted the lid of the large plastic container that held dozens of small boxes. She dug around until she found the particular box she was looking for. It was smaller than you would think. When you peeled away the skin, muscle and tendons, when you lifted the organs from the cavities where they were nestled, what was left behind seemed so inconsequential. Bones and teeth. Smooth and bleached. Not white like the skeletons that are displayed in science classrooms. More like the color of an old lace tablecloth.

  * * *

  Back upstairs Nola quickly ch
anged out of her clothes, stained from Nick’s bloody nose, and then went back outside. Colin was loading the final sculptures into the U-Haul and his dad was standing on the front porch watching their progress.

  “Thanks, guys,” she heard Colin Kennedy say to his friends. “I got it from here. The buyer will help me unload them when I get to Willow Creek.” He waved goodbye and spied Nola standing on her front step and came toward her.

  “Oh, wow,” Colin said, giving Nola a wide grin. “You changed your hair. I like it.” Nola fingered a strand of her hair, the curls flattened into submission. “Our paths finally cross,” he said. “I’ve been back for six months and I think this is only the second time I’ve seen you. What are you, a vampire?”

  “Ha,” Nola laughed. “I just work all the time. I took a few days off to deal with some personal matters.”

  “How’s your mom doing?” Colin asked soberly. “I heard about the fall.”

  “She’s holding her own,” Nola said, her face falling. “She just needs time to heal. Hey, are these yours?” she asked nodding toward the U-Haul. “Pretty impressive.”

  “Thanks,” Colin said. He was actually blushing, Nola thought. “I just sold them. I’m heading off to deliver them now.”

  “Congratulations.” Nola smiled. The gesture felt foreign on her face. The chitchat that fell from her lips sounded unnatural even to her own ears. “How are you going to celebrate?”

  “I hadn’t even thought about that. With Dad, I have to stay pretty close to home. We’ll probably grill out or something. Have a few beers.”

  “Alzheimer’s?” Nola asked. “I remember my mom saying something about it. I’m sorry.”

  “Dementia, actually,” Colin explained. “So far, he can tell you about anything that happened decades ago but he has no idea what he ate for breakfast. Hey, I’ve got an idea.” Colin’s voice brightened. “Come over for supper one of these nights.”