Entangled Moon

by E. C. Frey

  I drink straight from the bottle, a long, sucking gulp that releases an enormous bubble in the bottle. I will the pain of last evening from my mind until a lone image seeps into my consciousness. Hovering waif-like at the center, Heather, mysterious and beautiful in her complexity, appears. I reach for the mirage but it disappears. I am left with the carcass of my disintegrating life and the bones of my calcified guilt.

  I slide further into the tub, until the water seeps up my nose and finally over my eyes. My long blond hair floats weightless and free along the surface of the clear water. A mermaid encapsulated in a feather-light world. Everyone thinks the world revolves around me, but it all started with Heather.

  Why couldn’t I just leave it alone? Mariah warned me. Heather told me. Her mother’s tone informed me, but I believed I could move mountains and part seas by the sheer power of my charm and beauty. I was legendary, after all. I, one Fiona Shit-for-Brains, could sway the heart of one Evil-Icy-Hearted-Mother.

  I hung up.

  “What happened?” Mariah asked. “Is she coming?”

  “No. Her mom said no. There’s no way she can come and I’m really worried. Her mom sounded really mad, like ice queen mad,” I said.

  “She is an ice queen.” Mariah knew. She lived on the other side of the fence. “You shouldn’t have tried to convince her. That might have made it worse. You yourself told us that long ago. Remember?”

  “I remember. That’s what Heather said. What do you think we should do?”

  Eve considered. “I think we should go without her. Let the whole thing blow over. She’ll be fine. If we do anything else, it might set Mrs. Lynch off.”

  Mariah agreed. “We can’t do anything now anyway. Let’s just go. I’ll check on her tonight. I can cut through the fence and climb the tree by her window.”

  We had a plan. All would be fine and we would hitch a ride more easily with only four. I gathered my things and slung my purse over my shoulder. “Well, I’m ready.”

  Eve spun on me. “Well, of course you’re ready! You’re always ready. You try to make things go your way and when they don’t, you drop it like a hot potato. You’ve probably screwed it up for Heather and now you’re ready to forget about it. Leave it to poor Heather to pick up the pieces. Typical Fiona.”

  “Jeez, Eve. Why are you being such a bitch? Maybe you should’ve tried talking to Mrs. Lynch. Maybe you could have done a better job.”

  “I probably could’ve. I at least know you can’t bully Heather’s mom into anything. She’s a bully herself. She’s the queen of bullies. I would’ve let the whole thing go. But no. You had to insert your sorry ass into the situation.”

  “Screw you, Eve.”

  “All right, let’s just forget about this and go.” Esperanza hated fighting.

  Mariah shrugged. “Let’s stop fighting and go. What’s done is done.”

  “We have to get to Tallon.”

  Esperanza and I got the first ride with a cowboy on his way to pick up a couple of horses from a Berkeley Hills stable that was “bustin’ at the seams.” He hated to see a couple of pretty girls “puttin’ themselves in all kinds of danger.” I smelled the odor of hay and sun-dappled horse haunches, the same scent that lingered on Mariah when she came home from South Dakota every August before school started.

  It took Eve and Mariah longer to hitch a ride. By the time they arrived, the sun was low in the sky. We hung out, but soon we had to find rides home. Our parents would expect us home for dinner. Trust was such a vulnerable thing—one violation and it became a contingency.

  “We should get the first ride since we got the last ride coming here.” Eve paced.

  When a young couple came along, Eve and Mariah fit perfectly into their backseat. Esperanza and I watched the back of their heads as they drove away.

  I thrust my finger into the roadway. The first two vehicles passed, but the third slowed and finally came to a stop just past us. It was a love bus. The side door slid open to reveal a hodge-podge of mattresses and dirty blankets, and a young man with greasy hair and spaced-out eyes. I headed toward the bus, but Esperanza recoiled.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m not getting in.”

  I motioned to her. “C’mon. We have to get home.”

  “No way, Fiona.”

  I looked at the guy. “We’re not ready to leave yet. We’ll catch the next ride.”

  He smiled, said, “Yeah, later man,” slid the door shut, and the bus inched away, its exhaust backfiring as it caught speed.

  I watched the vehicle go around the bend before I turned to Esperanza. “What’re you doing? That could be the only ride we get in time.”

  “No way, Fiona. That guy was creepy. I’m not getting into a car with anyone like that.”

  “Well, you might have to if you want to get home.”

  “I’d rather walk.”

  “We might have to. Seriously, my parents will kill me if I’m not back by supper.”

  “Well, you should’ve thought of that when you came up with this crazy scheme.”

  “I didn’t hear you complaining or coming up with some other plan.”

  “I didn’t exactly pull out the pom-poms either. Oh wait, that’s you, the gringa cheerleader.”

  “You’re just jealous, Espy.”

  “I’m not jealous. I’d rather not be a gringa prancing around with a bunch of shredded plastic and chanting while I do the splits. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Quit calling me a gringa. You know I hate that.”

  “That’s what you are.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t hear me calling you a spick.”

  Esperanza eyed me coolly. “Do you really want to go there?”

  I held my hands out, palms up. “I’m not calling you that and I never would. But then I’d prefer it if you didn’t call me a gringa.”

  Esperanza shrugged. “I’m sorry, Fiona. Besides, gringa’s only a bad name if you want it to be bad, if you use it in anger. Otherwise, it’s not so bad.” Esperanza turned back to the road. It was empty. “Mimi is preparing a special summer meal, diced and sautéed pork and boiled plantains fufu. She got plaintain leaves, too, to cook fish in. I’m hungry. How’re we going to get back home?”

  A loud, discordant sound entered the space around us first—confusing, hard to place. Seconds later, the bang of a car backfiring and the sound of a door sliding along its hinges warned us.

  Esperanza was the first to react. “Run!”

  The love bus had returned and three men were moving toward us. I watched, my mind caught in mud. “But they must just want to talk to us. We could catch a ride with them now. Honestly, Espy, we need to get home. I can handle them.”

  But Esperanza was already running toward the eastern bank of trees. I turned back to the men; they did appear sinister in the gleam of the descending afternoon sun. It took me a moment to figure out the problem: one set of eyes glittered with malevolent excitement.

  I was in a dream. I needed to run. My limbs moved in slow motion, in direct opposition to the men’s increasing speed.

  It took me forever to reach the bank of trees into which Esperanza had disappeared.

  I felt hot breath on my neck.

  I sprinted as fast into the forest as my lungs would allow.

  I ran for my life.

  I ran until I no longer could.

  There was nowhere to hide. I had no bearings other than that provided by a glimmer of the setting sun.

  And Esperanza was nowhere to be found.

  I didn’t dare call for her. I didn’t know how far she had run and I didn’t know where our pursuers were. Not knowing gnawed at me.

  Footsteps came from all directions. Twigs, leaves, and needles crunched far and nearby, the sound maddening. My terror was heightened in the lightless world.

  I had to move forward, a moving target was still safer. I couldn’t wait for them to find me.

  The sun disappeared and the forest turned strange. T
he darkness reached for me.

  I had to keep moving or it would seize me.

  I wandered for hours. Dad used to tell me that black holes squeeze the life from everything, creating dense matter that can fit on a pinhead. I was like that: lifeless matter compressed into a point. A point that bore no relevance to the world that continued around me, I would die and everyone else would go on.

  Fleeing was pointless.

  Daddy!

  I stopped to lean against a tree. Dawn lightened the forest or maybe I was just used to the darkness. The finality of being alone sat heavily in my chest and wrung my innards like a wet and soiled rag. The sweat of my wandering now chilled into a cold dampness that plastered itself against my skin.

  Don’t lie down.

  I looked toward the top of the canopy. The pink of the dawn sky softened the edges of the treetops. I would be able to figure this out in the light of day. Hope floated aloft of the forest. I moved forward, but the darkness followed.

  Something smacked me full in the face, and blackness found me.

  The blackness eventually gave way to the light. And I loved the light—but it was rough.

  “She’s over here.”

  Noise. It, too, should have been welcome, but it hurt my head.

  “Miss, can you understand me?”

  Who was he talking to?

  “Are you Fiona MacDonald?”

  Of course I was. The question was absurd.

  “Huh?”

  “She’s not responding.”

  “Well, give her a minute. It looks like she took quite a hit from that tree limb.”

  My face burned.

  “We’ve been searching all night for you.”

  I struggled to move. Mom would be distraught. Mother’s distress was . . . well, distressing. I lived in a gilded birdcage.

  “Don’t move.”

  I lay still.

  “Have they found the other one?”

  “Yes. She’s just over that knoll.”

  Espy was just over the knoll. What knoll? I hadn’t seen anything. She had been so close, but in the dark she could have been on the other side of the world. I struggled to look but couldn’t; defeated, I slumped to the ground.

  “We’ll get you to the hospital as soon as possible. Just don’t move.”

  My tears slipped and stung and I stopped fighting.

  I drifted in and out of consciousness, a ring of fire consuming me. The hands pushed something into my arm—another assault on my fire-consumed body, but this monster was merciful, because it helped me fall back into the black hole.

  I drifted back into a haze of whiteness. Mom wrung her hands, a cotton handkerchief knotted and twisted into a sharp point between them. I didn’t need to see the act to know it—to know the cloth.

  “Fiona?”

  I couldn’t answer.

  “Fiona, what on earth could you have been thinking?”

  The surrounding shapes remained edgeless. When I lifted my hand, I couldn’t tell where my hand began and the air ended. My fingers touched something foreign.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes, Fiona.”

  “What happened?”

  “Eve and Mariah came home and told us where you’d gone. I can’t imagine you doing such a thing. I would’ve driven you girls to Tallon. Do you know what could’ve happened?” She sobbed.

  In a million years, I couldn’t have foreseen this anguish. What had I been thinking? I’ve caused her enough heartache in her life.

  “And your father hasn’t been able to go to work. He’s been by your side since they found you. I finally told him to go home and take a shower and eat something. Fiona, you have turned our lives upside down. We’ve been sick with worry.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mama. I’ll never do it again.” The tears stung. Somehow, the pain felt right.

  “God almighty. You have a concussion, multiple scrapes, and hypothermia. I think it’d be wise if you rested a bit. Esperanza’s family agrees.”

  Espy! “Mom, what happened to Espy? I couldn’t find her. I tried so hard, but I couldn’t find her!”

  “They found her near you. She has hypothermia, but she’s doing well. Better than you, in fact.”

  I heard my own sigh. Pieces of the night came back to me. It had been so dark and cold. Why had it been so cold when the day had been so warm? And Espy, missing, had been close all along. Somehow, the memory felt less ominous. She had been so close, but we couldn’t save each other. Still, we had survived together.

  “Mariah and Eve are fine. They’ve been worried about you. Mariah’s parents are taking her to South Dakota. Her grandmother wants Mariah with her this summer. One of her uncles was killed in Vietnam. The other is missing.”

  “She should be there. It’s where she belongs.”

  “Yes, I know.” My mother paused. I wanted to see her face. My blindness was frustrating. “Esperanza’s father is taking his family to Mexico for a couple of weeks. Away from here. They’re waiting for her release from the hospital.”

  I took it all in, the loneliness and the hurt. I still had Heather and Eve.

  Mom leaned forward and grasped my hand, her flesh soft and warm. “Fiona, this is very . . . difficult.”

  I squeezed her hand. “I know, Mom. I really am sorry.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I am so sorry for what I’m about to tell you, especially in this condition, but we all feel it’s best. You’ll have questions that can’t be answered unless I tell you. That doesn’t mean it isn’t . . . difficult.”

  “What?”

  The silence was a wall through which I could not see. I struggled against it but it wouldn’t give. If only I could remove the pieces of pain from my eyes.

  “Mom?”

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Her sobs filled me with dread.

  “Mom?”

  “Heather’s in a coma. She fell down the stairs. She cracked her ribs, punctured her lung, and hit her head. She has a brain injury. Her parents are beside themselves with worry. I don’t know how this is going to turn out. This has been the worst night.”

  I clenched my fists. Liars! All of them! She didn’t fall down the stairs! Liars! The pain made the medicine and bandages useless. I lay very still, but my internal emotions ignited into waves of agony, into raging rivers of fury.

  I clenched my teeth. “Mom, she didn’t fall down the stairs.”

  “Yes, honey. She did.”

  “No, she didn’t. This isn’t the first time her parents have done something to her.”

  “Honey, you’re upset. She fell. They found her at the bottom of the stairs.”

  “No, she didn’t. I’m telling you, her parents beat her or pushed her or something.”

  “You have a concussion. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “I know what I’m saying, Mom. I’m telling you, she didn’t fall down those damn stairs. Why won’t you believe me?”

  “Why would her parents do such a thing and then sit by her side in the hospital? It just doesn’t make any sense. You kids concoct the wildest stories.”

  “No, we don’t. We know what goes on. I swear to you, she didn’t fall down those damn stairs.”

  “Watch your mouth. It’s not just me. The authorities believe she fell down the stairs. Why would they lie? Did you see her being beaten? Because the last time I checked, you were lost in the woods.”

  “No. But I know.”

  “You don’t know and it doesn’t matter anyway. Her parents are well-respected members of the community. The police looked at the situation and it has all the signs of an accident. Kids fall down the stairs every day. They’re too busy to pay attention to the steps.”

  “That’s what you tell yourselves because it’s easier to believe. Believing she was beaten into a coma by her own parents would be too messy. They’re all hypocrites, Mom.”

  Mom released my hand and I could sense her moving away from me. “You’re upset. Please don’t talk to me this way. I’m g
oing to forget about this because I know you’re in pain right now. But I don’t wish to discuss it any further.”

  I whispered as much to the universe as to my mother, “No, of course we won’t. The truth is too ugly to talk about.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

  “You need to rest. Your father will be here soon.” Mom got up from her chair and stroked my hair. “Rest. We’ll figure it all out later.”

  “Yeah. Later.” I turned my back to her. Oh my God, Heather. Sweet Heather! I punched the pillow, but was immediately sorry.

  I heard my mother open the door and leave. Good. She didn’t understand anyway. Mariah’s mom would.

  The door opened and firmer footsteps moved toward me. I turned.

  “Fiona.”

  I waved my hand into the air. “Yes, Daddy.”

  He took my hand. “Thank God you’re all right.” His voice cracked.

  “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”

  “What were you thinking?”

  “I guess I wasn’t. It seemed like a good plan at the time.”

  “Fiona, you know we don’t approve of hitchhiking.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Then how could it have been a good plan?”

  “I guess it wasn’t.”

  “No, it wasn’t. It defies logic. You knew we didn’t approve. Therefore, you knew the potential consequences. This is most disappointing.”

  “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”

  “Your remorse cannot abrogate your actions. There are always consequences. Always, Fiona. You must comprehend this truth.”

  “I do.” I clutched the hospital sheet. Daddy always turned into the theoretical physicist when I most needed him to be somebody else. I would’ve settled for a chimpanzee at that point.

  “I’m not convinced you do. If you did, we would not be here. I have considered all the options, and your mother and I have decided to ground you for the month.”

  I didn’t see that one coming. He delivered it like I was one of his errant research assistants. I deserved something, but a whole month? It was my first punishment—ever. Thirty days was over the top. But then Espy and Mariah would be gone. Heather was in a coma. Eve had been distant since Terrell left. It would be a lonely summer no matter what the punishment. Just me and Rory.