I was sitting on the stained couch with a cup of coffee I wasn’t drinking in my hand when the doorbell rang. V__’s doorbell is scrupulously polite, a slight tinkle that just clears the throat in a discreet “ahem”; nevertheless my head split like a melon. I closed my eyes and experienced what I sometimes call a déjà typhoon–a storm of familiarity, a rush of can’t-quite-place-it-ness. What was that, a head splitting like a melon? A baguette stuck in it, some weird fruit salad. I got up and answered the door.
It was Rachel State, showered and worried. “Hi Flan,” she said, looking me over. “How are you?”
I thought it was sarcasm but when I looked down at myself it was genuine concern; I was wearing my plain white T-shirt with a small flower embroidered on it, wrinkled and with a new tear on the shoulder like someone had bitten it. I suddenly felt my hair, like a mess of twigs. Particularly in contrast to Rachel’s sleek black ensemble I felt like a mess.
“I’m OK,” I said. “Just, you know, getting up. It was quite a party, wasn’t it?”
“It’s none of my business,” Rachel said, looking at the floor.
What? “Weren’t you there?” I said.
“It’s none of my business,” she said again, and I realized she was beginning a sentence, “but did Adam sleep here last night?” She raised her eyes and looked at me. In about half a second, she went from The Frosh Goth to a little fourteen-year-old knocking on the door of a house that hosted a party, looking for her big brother like somebody sent into the dark woods in a fairy tale. Which made me the witch, I guess.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Come on in, I’m freezing standing here with the door open.”
She looked wary and embarrassed.
I took a step backward and ran into Kate and Lily. They looked out of breath and were wearing damp aprons. “Hey,” I said, “Rachel is here. She’s–”
“Adam didn’t come home last night,” Rachel said. “My mom is raising hell. I’m sorry for coming over.” The open door was chilling me through, but I didn’t quite have the audacity to reach past her and pull it shut so I just stood there trembling.
“Nobody’s here,” Lily said quickly.
Rachel blinked. “Have you seen–”
“She’s looking for Adam,” I told them. “He didn’t come home, apparently.” Still trembling, I tried to scan back and figure out when I’d seen him last. Laughing in the kitchen–
“Well,” Kate said, “he’s not here. Only the Basic Eight were invited to spend the night. Everybody else was supposed to leave.” She was looking right at Rachel.
“I wasn’t–” Rachel gestured uselessly. “I just wanted to–”
“I don’t think Adam came to the party at all,” Lily said.
“Yes he did,” I said. “I’m just trying to remember the last time I saw him.” I looked curiously at Lily; surely she remembered he was there. Her eyes were wide and bagged; she clearly hadn’t slept. Had I slept? “Come on in, Rachel,” I said. “There’s coffee.”
“Thanks,” she said, giving me a tiny smile. She stepped farther into the house and I walked around her to shut the door. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this cold, but then again I wasn’t remembering much at all. “It’s in the kitchen,” I said.
“Thanks,” Rachel said again, but she couldn’t get to the kitchen because Kate and Lily were standing there. They looked at each other and then parted slightly so Rachel could squeeze through. What in the world was going on? Gabriel came through the kitchen door and blocked Rachel from it, his face set and unreasonable. Flora Habstat, of all people, stood behind Gabriel; she looked like she’d been crying. At last, I grabbed the handle to shut the front door and found V__ and Douglas standing there, out of breath. They looked scared raw. “Hi,” I said. “Where have you guys been?”
“I know this will be hard to believe, Flan,” Douglas said sharply, “but I’m not in the mood for jokes right now.”
“He followed me so I could get home,” V__ explained.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
“Flan,” she said. Her hands were shaking.
“V__, look who’s here,” Kate said meaningfully. “Rachel State. You know, Adam’s sister.”
“Oh,” V__ said. She blinked. She put her hand over mine and slammed the door shut. “What are you doing here?”
Rachel looked at me, her only ally. “I–” she said. “Did Adam stay here? He didn’t–my mom is looking for Adam.” She looked around like one of those kittens in a cage they have downtown as part of the Adopt-an-Animal program: Look how helpless, look how cute. Take it home. Everyone was too close to her: Kate and Lily, Gabriel and Flora, standing around her like walls at the zoo. Like a cage.
“It was a party,” Kate said. “We don’t know where he went.”
“She’s going to kill him,” Rachel said quietly, and Gabriel began making a terrible sound. Everybody looked at him, and he covered his mouth though it didn’t do any good. He was doubling over. Flora went to him, Kate went to him.
“I’m sorry,” Gabriel sputtered, and when he looked up for a minute I saw his red face and knew he was laughing. “I’m sorry,” he said when he caught his breath.
V__ reached out a hand and whirled Rachel around to face her. “Gabriel’s been sick,” she said. “He’s just hungover, that’s all. This really isn’t the best time for a visit, Rachel.”
“I was just looking for Adam,” she said uncertainly.
Kate snapped her fingers. “You know, I think he might have gone home with Shannon,” she said. “You know, Shannon, from the choir?”
“That’s right,” Lily said, covering her mouth. I could scarcely hear her over my teeth chattering; there must be another door open somewhere. Maybe the back one, the one to the garden. “He was with her all night. I barely saw him myself.”
Rachel sighed. Her brother’s friends were acting weird. “All right, I guess I’ll call her. Can I use your phone?”
“Broken,” V__ said promptly, and then shook her head slightly. “I mean, the downstairs phone is broken, and I’m expecting a call from my parents.”
“Oh,” Rachel said.
“Long-distance,” V__ said.
I snapped my fingers. “He’s not there,” I said. “I remember him saying he was going to leave, out the back–”
V__ pushed me away from the door and opened it. Kate and Lily moved forward, forcing Rachel to step quickly toward the open door. It looked like people were moving in for the kill. Jennifer Rose Milton came down the stairs.
“What’s going on?” she said, and then assessed the situation instantly. “Flan, would you come upstairs with me?”
“What?”
“I need you for something.” Rachel was looking at Jennifer Rose Milton like maybe Jenn had stolen something from her.
I tried again. “Adam’s not–” Something brown burned me. Kate had hit my elbow and my coffee had spilled down my white T-shirt, almost to the tiny embroidered flower. I stepped back. The rest of the coffee spilled on the floor. Kate and Lily stepped ahead of me. Gabriel took me firmly by the shoulders and moved me farther back.
“Could I leave through your yard?” Rachel said. “It’s a lot quicker to my house. I just cut through–”
“Right,” I said. “That’s what I–”
“I’m sorry,” V__ said, sickly-sweet.
“Sorry,” Flora said, agreeing. She stepped in front of me. It was getting hard to even see Rachel.
“The garden is closed,” V__ continued like a docent.
Rachel wasn’t born yesterday. “What?” she said. “Will you just let me–”
“No,” V__ said. “You weren’t invited here. Adam isn’t here. Please leave.” Gabriel slipped in front of me. Everybody was in front of me.
“Flan?” Jennifer Rose Milton asked. I looked at her but couldn’t read what she was saying. “Upstairs?”
“We have school today,” Rachel said. “My mom wants to know where Adam is. He didn’t come
home, on a school night. Why are you acting like–”
“We’re not acting like anything,” V__ said. They had pushed Rachel to the door and she was looking, finally, frightened. I tried to take a step toward her but Gabriel, gently, pushed me back, toward the stairs. I stepped on the first step and Jennifer Rose Milton moved around me so she was in front of me too. I took another step up.
“He’s here, isn’t he?” Rachel said. “Adam? Adam!”
Lily tripped over her own feet and stuck a hand out to steady herself. “He’s not here,” she said, and laughed.
“Where is he?” Rachel said. She was out the door and V__ was starting to shut it.
“We don’t know,” Kate said. “Go find him.”
I took another step up and suddenly saw, in aerial view, what was happening just as the door was shutting. Down in the entrance hall it wasn’t clear, but from above I could see that everyone was huddling together, staying close and thick between Rachel and me like protective animals. Moving like a flock, to protect one of their own. The whole Basic Eight–Kate, V__, Douglas, Gabriel, Flora, Jenn–moving me away from harm.
“Where is he?” Rachel said, and the door shut, and I was safe.
Tuesday November 2nd
I was dozing against the window of the bus, cold and smooth like water, when I heard somebody holding up the line of people boarding. Somebody was inquiring the price of a ticket to Roewer High School, and the bus driver, thinking he was being jerked around (though goodness knows why–he weighs too much to be jerked anywhere), was snapping at her.
“You’re holding up the line,” he said. “It’s a dollar. There’s no ticket.”
“Oh,” she said. I craned my neck to see who this person was, raised by wolves in some San Francisco wilderness and finally escaping by public transportation. A tall hairdo was blocking me. I heard a purse click open and coins drop into the box. Her clunky footsteps coming up the aisle and finally plopping down next to me.
“I can’t believe you do this every morning,” she said, and I opened my eyes. V__ was on the bus. V__. On the bus. “If I ever get my car back, Flan, I’m going to drive you to school every day. This is disgraceful.”
“What are you doing here?” I said. “Here I was hoping you’d save me the walk from the stop by pulling up in your gorgeous car.”
“My gorgeous car is gone,” she hissed, scrunching down in her seat like a spy. “We can’t talk here, Flan.”
“What?” I said, and then her eyes widened. She blinked and smiled at me, then looked around the bus.
“That’s right,” she said in a loud voice. “Stolen. My car was stolen. It’s gone. That’s why I’m taking the bus.” She brushed her hair theatrically from her face. “Stolen.”
“That’s awful,” I said. It was awful, but why was she telling everyone on the bus? “Um, when did it happen?”
“The last I saw it was at the party,” she announced. “I mean, right before the party. And then when I went to drive to school today it was gone.”
“Have you called the police?”
“My father is taking care of it,” she said. Rays of light were coming through the window at sharp odd angles, branding little triangles and squares on V__’s tired face. “They just got home last night, and boy was I busted. I had to get up at the crack of dawn, just to–”
“Boy was I busted? Why are you talking like you’re in a TV commercial?”
V__ glared at me, then leaned back in her seat scowling like I’d spoiled her fun.
“V__,” I said, “just tell me what’s going on.” She shook her head. I leaned into her. Her face was dark and furious. I spoke quietly, hoping that was the way she liked it. “V__, I’m sorry. I just–well, I’m just sitting here and suddenly you’re taking the bus, and now you tell me your car is stolen. Is that it? Your car? I mean, I’m sorry it’s stolen, V__, but–”
“Hey,” Lily said and we both jumped. She was standing up next to our seats, with her cello case next to her like a bodyguard, her notebooks against her breasts. She looked wrecked and not just early-morning wrecked. She looked refugee-wrecked.
“Can I sit down?” she said, and leaned toward us. The rays of light struck her and I saw her face was utterly green. Really green, like pale algae was clinging to her. I heard myself gasp. I’d never seen someone, green like that. “I don’t mean to sound like,” she swallowed, “an old lady, but I need to sit down.”
I waited for V__ to get up but she just sat there, her face still scowling and her eyes far away. V__, ever-polite V__, not giving up her seat for Lily Chandly who was looking like a pond you shouldn’t go into. One you shouldn’t even touch.
“Of course,” I said, getting up and stepping pointedly over V__ whose legs were hanging into the aisle like somebody’d forgotten them. V__ blinked, looked up at Lily and slid over to the window. Lily smiled a small lime smile and dropped into the seat. I put my hand on top of her cello case, to steady it. “I’ll take this,” I said, but Lily didn’t even acknowledge me.
“I don’t know if I can make it through the day,” she said. “I keep throwing up.”
“We all do,” V__ said tersely. “Shut up.”
Lily’s face got all puckered like an infant tantrum. “I can’t–” she whined, but V__ cut her off. She raised her hand, and for a second it looked like she was going to hit Lily. But the harshness of the gesture worked by itself and Lily shut her mouth.
“What?” I said. I couldn’t have seen what I had just seen, but I saw it. I think all the tenses are right in that sentence. “What?” I looked down at Lily who looked too sick to care. “V__’s just been telling me about her car. Have you heard? It was stolen, sometime around the night of the party. That gorgeous car. Isn’t that awful?” I sneaked a look at V__ to see if I was saying the right thing, but her eyes were closed and she was leaning against the window. I looked over at Lily who was blinking at me like I was going to hit her. “Lily? Did you hear about it?” Lily looked over at V__, who opened her eyes and shook her head slowly, no. “Lily?”
“I can’t–” she said, and swallowed. The bus stopped; we were at school. Lily stood up with effort and took her cello case from me. V__ stood up too. Lily walked to the back door of the bus unsteadily while I hovered over her. V__ went to the front; I watched her step down the stairs almost haughtily, not looking back at us. I left the bus first, and Lily followed, stepping down each step like she was in the dark. Finally she was out in the grungy street, in the morning light. V__ hadn’t waited up for us and was already striding toward Roewer. Lily blinked at the world; outside her skin didn’t have any less of that unearthly green. She took one step and doubled over; I caught her cello case from clattering onto the ground. With a horrible lurching noise she threw up, a mouthful of dark gray thick something onto the curb where it sat like a dirty snowdrift. I put my hand on Lily’s shoulder, but V__ didn’t even look back. The lurching sound, wet breathing like something going under, struck me in some way, and I stood there, searching my brain for the connection. Some memory. My head was vibrating like a tuning fork, searching the files for the right picture, but nothing came of it, only the dimness of some aquarium dream: gurgle, gurgle, gurgle. Lily gave one more dry heave and then stood up again. She reached into her pocket for a tissue and wiped her face, grimacing at me. She took her cello case and then looked at my hand on her, until I took it off.
“Lily,” I said, “you need to go home. You can’t–”
“Let’s go,” she said. Her eyes were dead and white but her mouth was smiling like a bad clown. “Time for school.”
“You can’t go to school like this,” I said. “You’re sick.”
“We’re having a meeting,” she said. “Seventh period, down by the lake. Don’t forget.”
“What? We all have Millie then. We can’t all cut that class to–”
“Flan,” she said, and started to cry, “we have to go to school.”
“OK,” I said, and reached out to touch her. She flin
ched sharply, her hands darting up to mine as if to slap them away. She looked at me and actually took a step back. “OK,” I said again, more carefully, and stepped away from her. “Just, you know, take it easy.”
“We have to go to school,” she muttered.
“OK,” I said, again. We went to school.
The day itself was uneventful, drifting by like ice floes. Something in Calc. Apologizing to Hattie Lewis for missing class yesterday. I’m sure she suspected something when all my friends were sick too, although Lily throwing up in the hallway just as class let out helped convince her that maybe there was a flu going round. Adam wasn’t in choir. Pond water under a microscope. Capitalist bell curves rising like tits. And then, for some reason, I ducked Millie’s door and trudged to the lake for this big meeting.
Wouldn’t you know it–V__ showed up first, so we had to sit there not talking to each other by the side of Lake Merced. Finally I sat up and looked at her taut face. I was astounded to see she was smoking, her dull smoke rising up against the silhouettes of the trees. “V__, I’m sorry,” I said. She blinked and puffed. “I don’t even know what I was saying, there on the bus.” True except for that pronoun. “I didn’t mean to upset you, V__. Please. I’m very sorry.”
The Basic Eight Page 30
