“Is Josh here?”
“Yes, he is. You want to come in?”
“Can he just come out for a second?”
“Sure,” he said. He yelled for Josh, who came down the stairs to the foyer and seemed to pause when he saw me. He came outside, and Mr. Keller shut the door and left us alone.
“Sam’s not home,” I said.
“I know. Your mom already came over here.”
“Did you two ride to the mall earlier?”
He hesitated. “Yeah, we did. Did you tell your mom that?”
“No. She would flip out if she knew.”
He seemed relieved. “We did start out together. But I came back.”
“Why?”
Again, he hesitated. “I don’t know. He was mean.”
“What did he do?”
“Nothing.”
“Josh, you just said he was mean. What did he do? You can tell me.” I felt a twinge of tenderness for him. I wanted to say: I know how he is. He can be a little brat.
“Someone drove by and threw, like, a Coke at me. It got all over me and I fell off my bike and Sam . . . he just laughed. He laughed at me.” He rubbed his elbow and I saw a scrape. There were a few scratches on his knees, too.
“Are you okay?”
He shrugged. His face reddened as he looked down at the ground.
“So you came home after that?”
He nodded. “I was all scratched up and all covered in dirt and stuff. So I rode my bike home. I—never mind.”
“What?”
“I just rode off. I was mad at him. I didn’t look back.”
“Well, maybe he rode on to the mall. I’m sure he’ll turn up soon.”
Josh nodded again. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry he was mean to you.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’ll just tell Mom what you told me. That you were riding in the woods.”
“Okay, good. I just didn’t . . . I don’t want to get him in trouble.”
We were both protecting him. Or so we thought.
“He’ll turn up,” I said again, like if I said it enough it would come true. Josh looked at me then, relieved. He believed me. And, right then, I still believed myself.
Panic didn’t truly set in for another hour or so, when Sam still hadn’t shown up. Outside, the daylight was fading.
“And tell me again, what did Josh say?” Earl asked Mom when he got home and she started explaining. She’d already called him on his cell, which she hardly did when he was at a construction site job.
“He said he left him in the woods.”
“So let’s go look there.” He was in his jeans, a sweaty white T-shirt, and his boots. He looked sunburned and overheated from the long day.
“I can help.” That unease was gnawing at me again, and I wanted to do something to keep it at bay. Still, deep down I thought Sam would turn up eventually. Just like him to cause us so much worry.
“No, you stay here in case he comes back. Call my cell right away if you hear from him,” Mom said.
I could tell she blamed me for this whole mess. Somehow it was my fault, and not Sam’s. I almost told them right then that he had gone to the mall—that he had totally broken the rules. But then I’d be in trouble, too, for letting him. And anyway, they were already out the door, carrying flashlights for when it got dark, which I realized would be soon.
Where the hell was he? The idea that he would have vanished seemed ludicrous. Little girls were the ones who went missing. Boys knew how to take care of themselves. Nothing could happen to a tough boy like Sam.
I sat and waited, tried to distract myself with my book, then with TV. But nothing really worked. The unease spread through my whole body like a fever. I couldn’t get my mind off Sam. As it got darker out, I started to get scared. I finally walked over to the Kellers’. I knew I was supposed to stay put, but I had to speak to Josh. He answered right after I knocked, like he was expecting me.
“He’s not back yet?”
“My mom and my stepdad went to the woods to look for him. Josh, we have to tell them.”
A voice floated from the living room. “What’s going on, Joshie?” It was Mrs. Keller. She walked down the hall toward the foyer, barefoot with a pencil tucked behind her ear. She was in law school.
Weird, for a woman her age, my mother always said. But maybe she said that because she was jealous. Mrs. Keller was pretty—tall, with long dark hair, an elegant and smooth face with hardly ever any makeup on. She was going to be a lawyer, a fancy rich lawyer, Mom would say. We’d always been friendly and neighborly, but I could tell that Mom didn’t feel totally comfortable around them. Maybe because Mom believed the Kellers thought they were better than us. Mr. Keller taught geology at the University of Alabama. Earl was in construction—the foreman, in charge of a lot of elaborate projects and renovations, a good job, but still. Mom was a secretary at an insurance company. She had never finished college, because she’d gotten pregnant with me. So everything was always my fault.
“Sam’s missing,” I told Mrs. Keller.
“What? Since when?”
“Since this afternoon.” I looked at Josh, and I could see his blue eyes widen. Don’t tell, he seemed to be saying. “Mom and Earl are looking for him in the woods.”
“Can we help?” She turned then and shouted, “Hal!”
“Josh may be the last person who saw him,” I said.
“When, Joshie?” she asked, stooping slightly and zooming her focus on to him. “When did you last see Sam?” She was normally a distracted person, kind of spacey, maybe because she was always thinking about legal cases and writing papers and stuff. But now she was giving us her full attention. I knew then that it was serious.
“I dunno. Like, at three maybe? We were in the woods.” He looked back at me, like he was checking to see if we were still going to continue with this. But I knew we couldn’t.
“You’re sure it was three?” Mrs. Keller asked.
He stood there, sort of staring into space. “I dunno.”
“Think. This is important.”
Mr. Keller walked up then. “What’s going on?”
I rehashed the whole situation.
“Josh? You sure it was three?” Mrs. Keller asked again.
Right then, as if under a bright light, Josh began to break down, started crying. “I dunno,” he said, and then choked out the story, the truth about heading to the mall. “I came back home. I . . . left him.”
Mrs. Keller was calm. Mr. Keller, too. They looked so kindhearted and understanding, and I envied Josh for that. Not the glares and tears and accusatory tones that would normally come from Mom, not the put-upon looks from Earl.
“And what did Sam do?”
“He kept riding, I guess. He shouted at me to come back.” He wiped a tear away, sniffled. “He yelled he was sorry. But I just kept riding.”
I didn’t know Sam had said he was sorry. I felt a pang then.
Mrs. Keller rubbed Josh’s head, touched his cheek. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
“I’ll go find your parents,” Mr. Keller said, heading off toward the woods.
Beyond him, I watched the entry to Pine Forest Estates, hoping against hope that, right then, Sam would ride up the little slope on his bike. I was ready to yell at him, and hug him, too.
“We’ll find him, Beth,” Mrs. Keller said, putting her hand on my shoulder. I stepped away, staring off in vain toward where I hoped Sam might appear.
I sometimes later wished that I could do that moment all over. I wish I would have just stood there and enjoyed the touch of her hand. I sometimes wish I would have turned around and hugged her and let her comfort me. But instead I stood there, apart, clutching myself like I was cold, waiting. It’s like I knew it was the beginning of a new sort of life—a
new life for all of us—and I was bracing for what was yet to come.
===
Mr. Keller told Mom and Earl what had happened when he found them in the woods, and by the time they got back to our house they were frantic. We all trekked back to our house. Earl called the police, who seemed to ask a ton of annoying questions. Finally, an hour later, when it was full-on dark, the police came, a man and a woman. The man was tall with thick brown hair and matching thick eyebrows, and he was chewing gum, which seemed inappropriate. The woman seemed much more like someone official—she had dark skin, and her black hair was pinned back, and she smiled at us before putting on a serious, let’s-get-down-to-business face. They talked to Mom and Earl and the Kellers. Then they spoke with Josh and me.
Josh was first, with all of the adults looking on in our living room. That room we never used, which was so quiet and undisturbed, now violated by all of this activity, by all these people. I stood and watched from the foyer, waiting my turn.
Josh didn’t tell them the entire truth. For one thing, he didn’t tell them that I’d known all along that they’d both gone off on their bikes to the mall. He covered for me. He’d started crying again, and I almost wished I was sitting next to him, holding his hand. But it was his mom sitting with him on the couch. It was her hand he was holding. I was leaning against the wall in the foyer, by myself.
When the policewoman, Officer Redmond, sat me down on the couch to go through my version of the story, I told her what I had told my mother. That as far as I knew Sam had gone off with Josh to ride their bikes in the woods at around two or three. She had this calming smile that made me think that everything was going to be okay.
Mom sat watching across from me on one of the boxy upholstered chairs, her eyes strained from fear. My hands were clenched fists at my sides. After Officer Redmond had finished with her questions, Earl came and sat next to me on the couch. He put his arm around me and said, “It’s okay, Beth. It’ll be okay.”
I nodded, feeling the heft of him next to me. Feeling a little stunned by it. He’d never shown me this type of affection. I looked over at Mom. I wanted to see something in her eyes—forgiveness, or even anger. But she just looked blank.
The Kellers finally left, Josh giving me one last sad glance before they returned to their home where no one was missing.
Later, I crawled into my bed and fell asleep. I woke up sometime in the middle of the night. It was cold. I guess Earl finally decided to run the AC on low, to spare us from feeling hot on top of everything else.
I sensed someone was in my room. I could hear quiet breathing. I adjusted my eyes to the darkness and saw Mom standing by the window, looking through the blinds, her form slightly illuminated by the moonlight outside. I watched her for as long as I could, and I almost said something—Sorry, Mom, I’m so sorry—but then I sensed her turn to look at me and I shut my eyes quickly. I listened as she left my room, shutting the door softly behind her.
I kept my eyes closed, but I never fell back asleep. Sam was out there, somewhere, and I was mad at him for doing this to us. And then I was scared for him. And then I started crying, wishing I could go back in time and grab him and tell him there was no way he was going to the mall. He was going to stay right here in this damned stuffy house with me.
===
When I drive up to the house, I expect—I don’t know, a scene? But there’s nothing like that. Mom’s car is there, and so is Earl’s. There’s an ugly gray sedan I don’t recognize. And a police car. That’s it.
I park and sit in the driveway for a minute. I grab my phone from my bag—three texts from Donal, one asking me what’s wrong, the next saying sorry if I got in trouble, then the last one just three question marks. I put it on silent and throw it back in my bag. I get out of the car, and right then I feel a chill, like I have a fever.
I don’t want to go inside.
But I have to. I have to see him.
I don’t know where Sam has been. Where do you go for three years? Without getting in touch, without letting us know you are alive? What happened? I can’t even imagine what he looks like now.
I slowly open the door and walk into the kitchen. I hear voices from the den. I could turn around, go back outside, and drive away. But Earl walks into the kitchen, his eyes puffy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him cry. He comes to me and pulls me into a hug. “He’s come back to us,” he says, his voice cracking. I sink further into him, holding on tight. “Come see your brother.”
I pull back and look up at him. “Where—I mean, what—”
Earl puts a finger to his lips, shakes his head. Now is not the time for questions, he seems to be saying. All of that can wait.
In the den, I see the police officer—the same one who interviewed me when Sam vanished. Officer Redmond. When she sees me, she smiles. There’s a man in a suit, too, with thick black hair, and Officer Redmond’s partner, that same tall, slouchy guy who’s chewing gum, like last time. They’re all standing around like they’re unsure what to do. On the couch I see Mom sitting up straight. Her eyes are closed, a content look on her face, like she’s having a pleasant daydream. She’s clutching a teenage boy with shaggy brown hair who is sitting next to her, his eyes closed, too, his head resting on her shoulder.
I feel a tightness in my chest, because at first it’s like I’m looking at Mom with some stranger. With his eyes closed, it’s hard for me to get a good look at him. He could be anyone.
I notice something shiny on his eyebrow, visible even in the fading afternoon light of the room. I squint—a piercing? For a moment, I wonder if this is someone else. Maybe Mom finally lost her mind and grabbed this random kid off the street and won’t let go of him, and that is why the police are here. It would almost make more sense.
“Sam,” I say, barely croaking it out.
His eyes open. He lifts his head from Mom’s shoulder, his eyes widening now, his mouth forming an oval, as if I’m the one who’s suddenly reappeared.
He looks the same, but not the same. He’s older of course. Gaunt but also muscular, filled out. His face thin and angular, a more pronounced jaw, and bulging Adam’s apple. And yes, his eyebrow is pierced, and so is his lip, the right bottom corner. It hurts to look at it.
“Beth,” he says. His voice is deeper than the last time I heard him. It sounds so strange. And it all happens so fast: He stands and staggers over and hugs me, and I hug him back, resting my head on his shoulder because that seems the natural thing to do. He’s tall now, taller than me. I can feel the broadness of him. “Beth,” he whispers. “Beth.” I hold on to him, maybe a little too tightly, but it’s like I have to make up for all the years that have gone by, all the hugs I’ve missed.
Finally, he pulls back gently and just stares at me, his dark brown eyes glassy. He’s wearing a checked flannel shirt, unbuttoned, over a black T-shirt. He has on ratty jeans, sneakers.
Someone bought him these things, I realize.
Mom stands and comes over to us and pulls us all into an embrace, a clump of three. And soon I feel another hand on my shoulder—Earl’s. I think I might suffocate, held in this group hug.
Once we all break apart, Mom looks at me with that relaxed expression and says, “I told you he’d come back to us,” like I was so silly to ever doubt that.
Mom had spent almost all of her waking moments searching for him, even after the years went by. She started a website. She made calls. She focused almost all of her energy on this hope that he was out there.
She was right all along. And I was wrong. A cold kind of shame creeps through my body.
“The news conference will start in about twenty minutes,” the man with the thick black hair says. “So we might want to get going.”
“The what?” I ask.
“News conference,” Earl says.
“About Sam?”
Earl grabs my hand, gently but with certa
inty, and walks us into the living room, away from everyone else. “Sam’s been through a lot, Beth.”
“But what? Where has he been? What—”
“We’ll talk about this later. Right now we have to go to this news conference. The police and sheriffs want us to speak to reporters, before the story leaks out on its own. They want us to give a few statements, for the media.”
I’m about to ask another question—I have about a thousand—but he puts his hand on my shoulder. “Later. I promise.”
And just like that we’re out of the door and into Mom’s car. Earl sits up front and drives, and Mom crawls in the back with Sam. She doesn’t want to let go of him. I’m about to sit up front, but Sam holds the backseat door open. “Beth, come back here. Please?”
I really don’t want to, but I look at Earl and he nods, so I crowd into the backseat, Sam in the middle. He clutches my hand, tightly, as Earl starts to drive, following the police car and the sedan to wherever it is we’re headed.
No one says anything. Sam is trembling next to me. I grip his hand more tightly, like that might help. And it does, I think. I can feel his trembling wind down.
My mind goes back to one night when he was just a baby. God, fourteen years ago. This same shaking person next to me. I remember the night so clearly. I woke up, and I could hear him in his room, crying like crazy, worse than usual. I climbed out of my bed or whatever it was I slept in at that age. I wandered into his room, where Mom and Dad were trying to calm him. Mom paced back and forth and patted his back, while Dad looked on, smiling like it was all a ridiculous joke.
Mom must have said, “Beth, go back to bed.” But I stood there, gawking. How could I sleep with all this shrieking?
Mom sat down on a chair in the corner of the room, with the crying Sam on her lap. I wanted to cup a hand over his mouth to make the noise stop. But instead, his tiny fingers closed on mine, and he looked up at me. I can see it, his ugly pinched face, the streaks of dark brown hair pasted on his little mushy head, those big brown eyes. He hiccupped into silence, squeezing my hand with his little fingers, his eyes looking into mine like he’d never seen me before and was mesmerized. And maybe before that moment he really hadn’t truly seen me. Maybe, all of a sudden, he realized who I was. His sister.
We Now Return to Regular Life Page 2
