by S.A. Bodeen
I’d like to give credit to the family time, that simply being in a nice place with Gram and Eddy was enough to make us whole. But I have to place the blame, or credit, with television. Even though she was limited to two hours a day, those two hours consisted of all the tweener shows that told Reese exactly what she’d missed of American civilization in those six years of being away.
That’s what we called it when we had to refer to our time in the Compound.
Away.
When we were away…
The word soft-pedaled the messed-up reality of the situation. We weren’t trapped or confined or unwilling prisoners. We were simply… away.
We talked a lot about that period of our lives. How could we not? That had been the reality of the past six years of our life, and Eddy and Gram wanted to know. We couldn’t pretend we weren’t there. But, as we replied, we could leave out the worst of the Compound; the worst of what my father did. And we could use euphemisms that took some of the pain out of answering the questions.
“What did you eat when you were away?”
“What did you do for fun when you were away?”
We’d been at Gram’s in Hawaii for a few days when Eddy asked me, “Did you think of me when you were away?”
How to answer that one? Because to answer only yes would not have done justice to the truth, that he was never out of my mind; that I thought of him constantly as I blamed myself for his death. For six years, I wore that guilt like an ugly shirt I couldn’t take off.
Since being out, being back with my brother, at least once a day I found myself having to touch him to prove he was real.
Usually I settled for punching him on the arm or elbowing him or putting him in a headlock. Because reaching out and touching him and saying, “Just had to check if you were real because I think you are just in my imagination and I’m terrified I’m going to wake up and realize I’m still in the Compound,”… well, that might make me seem like a freak.
And I already felt that way enough of the time.
Next in the morning parade came my older sister, Lexie, in pajamas with pink lip prints all over them. Her eyes were red and puffy, and I assumed she’d been crying again. Her room was next to mine and I often heard her at night. Her dark hair was twisted in a messy bun at her neck. In her arms she carried Cara, whom she handed off to me. “I checked on Quinn, but he’s still asleep. Which I would be if this little poop hadn’t woken me up.” She kissed the top of Cara’s head, then accepted a cup of Kona from Gram and went and sat on the flowered couch in the sunroom by the fireplace and television.
My older sister seemed to be affected the most. Honestly, I could barely remember what she was like before the Compound. Spoiled like the rest of us. Did any of us even think about one another before that experience? But we’d actually become friends since we got out. She was quiet, though, maybe too quiet; I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her that subdued. And she was sad.
Lexie had been closer to Dad than any of us had. So it made sense that, despite all he had done, maybe she was still grieving for him.
So I made sure to be nice to her. She seemed too fragile to not treat kindly. I couldn’t help thinking she had secrets. But we’d all spent the last six years in a confined space. Not many secrets you can keep in a situation like that. Maybe she thought none of us would understand how much she was missing Dad. And maybe she was right; maybe none of us would.
Mom came in, yawning, with dark circles under her eyes. She set the baby monitor on the counter. “Sweet thing went right back to sleep.”
Gram asked, “Why didn’t you?”
Mom shrugged. “I tried. But I smelled coffee.”
I knew the Phil thing was stressing her out. That was why she couldn’t sleep. Cara twisted around in my lap, kneeling so she could put her arms around my neck. Then she settled in, as if she was going to go back to sleep, her breath warm on my skin.
Mom kissed Gram on the cheek, then came over and did the same to me and Cara and Reese. She doctored her coffee with cream and sweetener and then went to sit with Lexie.
Eddy walked in, carrying his tablet computer. Barefoot, he wore a pair of faded gray sweatpants with holes in the knees and a nearly threadbare Nirvana T-shirt. Gram shook her head at him. “I’m gonna throw those out the next time I see them in the wash.”
“No way.” Eddy grinned and put Gram in a gentle headlock. “They just got broken in.”
I glanced down at the clothes I wore: black running shorts and an orange T-shirt, both brand-new, not even close to being faded. Neither had any holes. Neither was broken in. Like the rest of the clothes in my closet.
Our first two weeks in Hawaii, Lexie and Mom and Reese had spent hours online, ordering clothes for all of us. Other than some dress clothes, Eddy didn’t need anything.
So everything I owned was new. I had no favorites. I hadn’t been on the outside long enough to break something in.
And suddenly I wanted something like the clothes Eddy wore. Something old. Something with holes in it. Something of my own that I’d had for longer than a month, something that wasn’t so frickin’ new.
Eddy poured himself a glass of juice. Our cat, Clementine, rubbed against his leg. Thanks to some new allergy shots, the cat no longer bothered him.
I looked sideways at my brother.
He was so… relaxed. So normal, with his worn-out, comfortable clothes. He totally fit in wherever he was.
Eddy’s eyes narrowed as he looked at something on his tablet. He put a hand over his mouth as he paled.
I asked, “What’s wrong?”
Eddy turned the screen my way to show me the front page of the Seattle Times. “It’s Phil.”
I sighed and looked away. “What’s he done now?” I’d had enough of Phil the day before.
Eddy’s eyes were wide. “He’s disappeared.”
My mouth dropped open. “What?”
“They suspect foul play.” He sunk down onto a stool.
Reaching out with one hand while still holding Cara with the other, I grabbed his computer and quickly scanned the story.
Philip A. Whitaker… 38… missing… blood-spattered apartment… The article was short, but it got my heart pounding. What if something had happened to Phil? What if he was gone forever? I started to smile, but then I looked up at Eddy. “Why are you so upset?”
Eddy shook his head and wouldn’t look at me. “I know you don’t get it, but Phil was good to me and Gram while you guys were… away. I didn’t know what had happened. I only knew you were all gone and Gram and Phil were all I had.” He looked at Gram.
She nodded. “He made sure we had everything we needed. But if I’d known…” She made a fist and smacked it into the palm of her other hand.
I set the tablet down, then put a hand on Eddy’s arm. “I’m sorry.” But, really, I wasn’t. Not even close.
Eddy went into where Mom and Lexie were watching television, and flipped the channel to the news. I followed, carrying Cara. The story about Phil was big news. “How long do you think they’ll wait?” I asked Mom.
“For what?”
I shrugged. “If he’s gone… I mean, someone has to run YK.”
She nodded. “Yeah. But I don’t know. We’ll have to see.” A funny smile played at the corner of her lips. She didn’t seem surprised at the news.
Did she have something to do with Phil’s disappearance?
No way. I shoved away the thought as Els held a platter of fresh cinnamon rolls in front of me. Cara stirred and reached out for one.
“Want one, Cara?”
She nodded, so I carried her back into the kitchen and put her up on a stool, getting her some milk and a small piece of roll. I picked up one and took a bite, then, as Els was passing them around to everyone else, I quickly poured myself a glass of milk and went back up to my room.
I went online and found the article Eddy had showed me and printed it out. I glanced at the picture of Phil and called him the worst name I could
think of. Then I added, “I hope you did get what you deserved. And that you’re gone for good.”
I opened my drawer and put the sheet of paper inside, along with the flash drive. I planned on never looking at either again.
CHAPTER THREE
As nearly two weeks went by with no sign of Phil, it became clear that the company had to make some decisions. Since the will named Eddy and me to take over when we were twenty-five, and Mom was obviously in charge of us, the board named her temporarily in control of YK. She was happy at that, to have Phil out of the way, but she had no desire to actually run the company.
The last week of August, she and Eddy and I were with the seven members of the YK board, in the same meeting room we’d seen Phil the last time. Mom said, “I believe it is apparent to everyone here that I don’t have the faculties, or the time, to run this company.” She nodded at us. “And my sons aren’t ready. But I want them to be part of this company, part of this process. One day this place will belong to them. They need to start learning about it now.”
The company lawyer pulled out a sheath of papers and passed them out to all of us. I glanced down at a list of names; all were people Dad had groomed, thus all were people loyal to my father.
He cleared his throat. “These are the choices to run the company.”
My heart started pounding.
Who was to say any of them were better than Phil?
Any, or all of them, could have known about the Compound, could have helped keep us down there.
Mom pointed to a name. “Mr. O’Connor. Can we appoint him?”
I grabbed Mom’s arm and whispered, “How do we know that—”
“Shh. Eli. I know him.” She spoke up for the board. “O’Connor is capable, right?”
The president, a woman in a black pantsuit with a severe blond bob, nodded. “He’s on the list.”
Mom nodded. “Can we agree to appoint him for six months? See how it goes?”
The board conferred with one another for a moment, but they all seemed to nod. The president spoke again. “Yes, six months.”
“And my sons can start being involved?”
My hands turned to fists. I hated that my mother, wife of the founder of YK, had to beg like this, had to bow at their feet to get what she wanted: her sons, the legal heirs of YK, to have some small fingerhold into the company that they would inherit in less than ten years.
I stood up and walked into the hall, letting the door slam behind me. The door opened and closed quietly. Eddy grabbed my arm and swung me around to face him. “What are you doing?”
I shook my head. “I hate this. All of it.” I let out a deep breath. “Mainly I hate that these people are all still loyal to Dad, after everything he did.”
Eddy didn’t look like he agreed with me. Not at all.
“What?” I asked.
He said, “You don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
He ran his hands through his hair and then let them drop. “You go on and on about Dad, how bad he was.” He lifted a hand. “But he built this place from scratch. He started so many charities that have helped so many people.”
“Seriously?” I felt my face turn red. “You’re defending him? That’s ridiculous.”
Eddy looked at the floor and didn’t say anything for a second. Then he looked at me, his eyes narrowing. “I lost my father when I was nine. You didn’t. You had him for six more years. So you don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t say about him.”
“But he—”
“What? He what? Kept you guys down there? Yeah. I know. I hear about it all the time. I live it all the time. Every frickin’ day. I got my family back, but…” He paused for a second. “What exactly did I get? A bunch of people trying to get over something that happened to them that I wasn’t a part of. You tell me Dad went nuts, did all this. But that’s not the father I remember.” He shook his head. “You don’t get it. I lost everything when I was nine. Everything! And now I have most of it back. But it’s not the same.” He stopped and looked down at the floor. “I have to adjust, too.”
“Eddy, I—”
He held up a hand. “You need to let me do it in my own way. I lost my dad when he was still my hero. So that’s what he’s been the last six years whenever I’ve thought about him. My hero.” He shook his head. “You’re not going to change that kind of thinking so fast.”
None of that had ever crossed my mind. That the last time Eddy saw our father, Dad still towered over him in more ways than one, still seemed someone to look up to. Eddy hadn’t known the father of the past six years. The man I knew, who slowly went mad, and tried to take his family with him.
I would have thought Eddy would be on my side. That he would start thinking differently about our father based solely on what I told him about the past six years. It would take longer for him to see the truth, and I needed to give him the time.
I put my hand on my brother’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I should have thought of how it would make you feel.” But the truth was, I couldn’t.
“I know.” He sighed. “We’d better go back in.”
I opened the door and we took our seats again.
“Here they are.” The president took out a YK tablet and tapped it with one long red fingernail. “I’ll set up a date for them to come in and decide what they want to do.” She looked up. “I’ll have the director of charitable contributions clear her schedule for tomorrow morning. Will that do?”
Mom looked at me and Eddy. We both nodded, and she said, “Yes.”
There were a few more things to discuss, but Eddy leaned over to me and whispered, “Do you even know what you want to do here?”
I started to speak, but then had to pause. Other than getting rid of Phil and making sure Mom was listened to, what did I want?
I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I had no idea.
* * *
That night we all sat around the dining-room table eating Mexican food. Except for Cara, seated next to me, banging her spoon on the table, none of us said anything. There was only the clinking of silver on china as we devoured Els’s chicken-and-cheese enchiladas with green sauce.
I dumped another spoonful of guacamole on top of mine, then reached for the crystal bowl of sour cream.
Food was still a bit overwhelming for us all. In the Compound, we’d gotten so used to eating the dregs: lame nourishment that wouldn’t have even made the cut for a typical food pyramid.
Stale, broken pasta.
Limp, nearly flavorless produce from the flagging hydroponics.
Canned and boxed goods well past their prime.
Meat had been but a memory, something I’d last eaten when I was thirteen; dairy products had disappeared long before that.
The tastes and textures we had missed for so long became something to focus on. Except for the little kids making noise, our meals tended to be silent as we all dug in, savoring the fresh flavors. Only when everyone was full did we start talking.
Eddy said, “School starts soon.”
“I want to go to college,” said Lexie.
Mom looked up at her. “I was thinking more along the lines of online school for you all. Just for this year, anyway. Until you are all used to being back.”
Eddy looked at me, then back at Mom. “I thought we’d go back to our old school.”
Mom shook her head. “There’s already so much speculation. I’d rather we give it a chance to all blow over.”
“Right!” Lexie rolled her eyes. “The richest guy in America keeps his entire family prisoner underground for years, and you expect it to blow over? God, Mom, we’re never going to stop being freaks. Might as well let us out of the house to be freaks. I want to study something. Take actual dance lessons. Be a real person for once.” She shook her head. “I turn eighteen in less than three months.”
“I realize that.” Mom sighed. “I just think it’s too soon.”
Lexie glared down at her plate. That was the most outspoken
she’d been for weeks. And I had to admit, I was actually glad to see her mad for once, after being sad for so long.
Gram said, “Eddy was with me in Hawaii most of the time, at the local school. No one around here has seen him since you left.”
I blurted out, “No one knows what we look like now.” I glanced at Lucas and Cara and Quinn. “And no one has ever seen them. We could use a fake name. Like you do.” Mom had been using Gram’s grandmother’s maiden name for everything: buying the house and all our online ordering. No one had any way of knowing it, and it kept the Yanakakis name off all our mail as well.
Reese said, “Yeah! I don’t want to be online. I want friends. Mercer Island has a middle school.”
I wasn’t sure I could see myself walking into Mercer Island High, pretending to care about making the honor roll and football games and asking someone to homecoming. After what I’d been through, how could I?
Mom narrowed her eyes. “And what will all of you do when your friends want to see where you live? Meet your family?” She shook her head. “I just can’t allow anyone in here. I’m not ready.”
Reese was quiet a moment, then said, “I could go to their houses until you’re ready. And by that time, they’ll be my friends and they won’t care who I am.”
“Good luck with that.” I sighed. “People always care who you are.” I shoved my food around my plate.
I’d spent enough of my life trapped. Even though our new place was great, I didn’t need it to turn into another bunch of walls keeping me prisoner. “I can’t be stuck here like we were stuck there.” I met Mom’s eyes. “I just can’t. I want to get my GED and go to college, too.”
Mom said, “Eli, you’re fifteen years old.”
“So? I’ve done nothing but study the past three years. I can get my GED and take the SATs while I’m working at YK.” I didn’t mention that there was no way, after what I’d been through, that I could immerse myself in the shallow, day-to-day dramas of the average teenager. I’d lost any chance there’d ever been to be that person.
Mom shook her head. “You’re not working at YK.”
