That night I slept deeper than I had since Abby first disappeared. I swore I could smell her in the sheets, and it felt as if she was there with me.
60
Dad found me in the morning, cocooned under a pile of blankets, Abby’s dress tangled around my legs.
“We need to talk,” he said in a stern voice, and I was pretty sure he’d spoken to the Miracle Seeker who’d intercepted me at the door when I came home from the dance.
I followed him to the kitchen and poured the last of the box of cereal. It was stale and mostly crumbs, but I needed something to do with my hands, a way to keep my mouth shut.
Dad opened the curtains that covered the sliding door to our backyard, and for a second I was afraid that the woman would be out there. But only bright sunlight flooded the room.
“What happened last night? One of the women in the circle, she said her name was Mrs. Butler, stopped me when I went out to get the paper and told me you pushed her. Is this true?”
“Yeah,” I told him. If he wanted the truth, I was going to give it to him. For once.
“First the woman at Otis’s Diner and now this. What would possess you to do something like that?” He stared at me as if he didn’t even recognize me.
I thought about apologizing, stepping down, but I didn’t want to. The way that woman treated me wasn’t fair. “Because of the way she was talking to me, like I did something bad. I went out last night to a school dance. Something pretty much everyone at my school did. I was just trying to get back to normal. She has no right to judge me. None at all.”
“You’re right. What she said wasn’t appropriate, but that doesn’t mean you can respond by pushing her. You do understand these people are here for your sister, don’t you?” Dad asked.
“Abby is my sister. Mine. They act like they own her, but they don’t. Not at all. This is happening to me, to you, to our family.”
Dad sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I’ll talk to her. This is hard for all of us, and she shouldn’t have said what she said, but we raised you to be respectful.”
Outside, Mom pulled into our driveway and stepped out of the car with boxes of doughnuts. She walked over to the group and passed them around to everyone.
“Mom shouldn’t be out there. She cares about everyone in the field more than she does about her own family.”
“That’s not true—” Dad said, but it was. It couldn’t be healthy. Mom blended in so well with the people outside that she was a part of them. Ever since that tiny step forward, the crop circles and Miracle Seekers had made her go a hundred steps back. She’d become a Miracle Seeker herself. She was so obsessed with those circles that she couldn’t even see what was going on with her own family. Just the other day Collin wore pajama bottoms to school because he didn’t have any clean pants. There was a pile of bills on the dining room table that were overdue, and I’d thrown away almost everything in our fridge last week because the food was rotten. We were a mess, and Mom refused to see that.
“Those people aren’t right, Dad.”
He shook his head. “They aren’t hurting anyone.”
“What about Mom? They’re hurting her. She stands out there waiting for Abby to come home. Mom’s looking for this ghost version of Abby, when she should be with us. Instead, she’s in our field with a bunch of strangers.”
“Your mother is trying to make sense of this, just like us.”
“How can she, when she’s pretty much forgotten the other three people in her family who are still here, because she’s too busy with everyone outside filling her head with that bullshit? Abby might be gone, but we’re still here and she doesn’t even care.”
“It’s her way, Rhylee.”
“Her way of what?”
Dad paused. “Grieving.”
The clock in our kitchen ticked away the minutes and the voices outside rose and fell in peaks, valleys, growing loud, and then soft.
“We’re grieving too,” I finally said. “And right now Abby isn’t the only one that I feel like I’ve lost.”
61
“Did you hear about what happened when we left the dance on Saturday? Everyone is talking about the fight between Tommy and Kyle,” Tessa said as soon as I got to school Monday morning.
“Tommy got in a fight?” I asked.
“I guess the two of them went at it in the middle of the dance floor. Mr. Ralston pulled them apart before much could happen, but people said that Kyle went nuts screaming at Tommy. He didn’t mention it to you?”
“We don’t really talk anymore,” I said and hoped that would be enough to shut Tessa up. But things were never that easy.
“I saw the two of you were outside together at the dance,” Tess pointed out.
“It wasn’t like that,” I said. I stayed on my knees in front of my locker and pretended to search through my books and papers. It was a lot easier to speak to the scratched metal and pile of books inside than to look at Tessa’s face.
“The two of you were outside together in the dark. You’re really going to try to tell me that isn’t something?”
The bell rang, and I had no choice but to stand up. People slammed lockers around me and headed toward their classes. A book bag swung into me, and I almost became a casualty in the mad dash to avoid a tardy slip.
“Really, nothing happened.”
“It’s okay to spend time with Tommy,” Tessa said. “No one says that there is anything wrong with talking to a person. You’re allowed to be around him.”
“I wish it were that simple.”
“It is,” she told me, and I couldn’t believe we were arguing about whether it was okay to like my missing sister’s boyfriend. Tessa had always supported me, but this, this seemed like too much.
“And what do I tell my sister when she returns?” I asked. “Sorry, Abby, I’ve been getting pretty close with your boyfriend while you disappeared.”
“You can’t stop living,” Tessa said. “You’re still here.”
“But she isn’t,” I told her. “And until she is, I can’t betray her.” Again, I thought.
Tessa nodded as if she understood, but my words felt sour on my tongue.
The two of us headed to class, and the irony of worrying about betraying Abby made me sick. Can you betray a person a second time? Especially when the initial betrayal was enough to destroy them?
62
I ditched sixth period and called the suicide hotline again. Tessa’s words spun in my head. There was no way I could ever be with Tommy. How could I after what we’d done?
“Are you in immediate danger?” a woman’s voice asked.
“No,” I said. “I need someone to talk to.”
“This is a great place do to that. I’m Laura. What’s your name?”
“Abby,” I said again without thinking, then felt ashamed to take something of my sister’s once again.
“What’s on your mind, Abby?” she asked, and there was a rustling, as if she was eating something from a bag. I pictured her lounging on the chair wherever the hotline was located, her feet up on her desk, popping almonds into her mouth.
“I can’t stop thinking about what I did.” I decided to take the confessional route. Laura might not be a priest, but it sure felt good to burden someone else with my sins. I was afraid that if I carried these secrets around by myself much longer, I might collapse under their weight.
“What did you do? Was it something that could put you in danger?”
“It wasn’t something I did to myself. It was my sister. I hurt her so bad she hasn’t returned. I don’t think she’ll ever return.”
“Did you hurt her physically?” Laura asked.
“No, no,” I quickly said so she wouldn’t try to trace my call and send the police for me. “I did something to her that I don’t think she can ever forgive.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t feel that way.”
“She can’t feel anything,” I said, my voice rising as I felt the bitter sting of my guilt. “She’s g
one, and I’m the one who should have disappeared.”
“Oh, honey, nothing in this world is worth disappearing for.”
I pressed the change return button repeatedly while scanning the area to make sure no one walked by. “I don’t know what I’m allowed to feel anymore. It all seems wrong no matter what I choose.”
“What do you want to feel?”
“Love,” I said and thought about Tommy.
“Why don’t you think you feel it?” Laura asked.
“I’m not allowed.”
“Everyone is allowed to feel love,” she answered, but she was wrong. There is no way that someone gets to love after what I did. Not a chance.
Of course she was going to tell me I was allowed to love; her job was to fill my head with positive thoughts and warm fuzzies so I didn’t want to off myself, but she didn’t know. How could she understand that it was impossible to love someone when loving them was what drove away the only other person you could possibly love more?
“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” I said to please her and make sure she believed I was okay. “Listen, I have to go. But thanks for listening.”
I hung up the phone before she could say anything more. Maybe in her world you could feel love, but in mine, the love I felt was an impossible curse.
63
I stayed in the library until the bell rang for the end of the school day. I followed the crowd out the door to the buses, which was where Tommy caught up with me.
It was no use running from him; I’d make a scene doing that, so I slowed down, and he seized his chance to fall into step beside me.
“I need to talk to you,” he said. I couldn’t see his face—he had a hoodie pulled up over his head—but I could hear the urgency in his voice.
“We can’t,” I told him and fought to keep my voice firm, even though I was crumbling inside.
“Please, Rhylee,” he begged. “This is important.”
I relented and nodded. I reached out and touched his hoodie. “You don’t have to hide from me. Tessa told me what happened.”
“I don’t want you to see me like this,” he said, but pulled down the hood.
His left eye was puffy and swollen almost completely shut. A mess of yellow and purple tinged the edges and his face held a kaleidoscope of bruises.
“Oh my god,” I breathed as I took in what Kyle had done to him.
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I need to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye?”
“I’m leaving,” he said, his voice dull and empty.
“What are you talking about?” I asked in a voice loud enough that a few of my classmates turned around and stared at us. I lowered my voice. “Okay, we can talk, but not here. Where’s your truck?”
He gestured to the right of the parking lot and the two of us headed toward it together. He unlocked the passenger door and grabbed a bunch of papers and junk from the front seat. “It’s messy in here, sorry.”
“I can handle it.” I climbed in and pushed a few crumpled bags away with my feet. The truck smelled different from Tommy. A mixture of smoke and fresh grass. I remembered the last time I was in his truck, on the way home from the bonfire. Things were so different now. That night seemed like a dream.
“I’m sorry if I upset you at the dance,” he said as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“I shouldn’t have gone. It was a stupid idea.”
“I don’t know why I went either.”
“No one knows what’s right anymore,” I said.
“That’s why I have to get out of here for a while.”
“What do you mean?”
“I need to get away. No one wants me here. My aunt said I could stay with her, which is a good thing. She’s in upstate New York, so maybe I can work with a piano teacher, look into auditioning at some colleges in the city,” he said, and it was as if the bottom dropped out from under me.
“You belong here,” I told him, unable to hide the fear in my voice. Tommy couldn’t leave; I wouldn’t survive if both he and Abby were gone. And I was selfish enough to say it.
He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “They won’t stop until they’ve gotten their revenge for what they think I did to Abby.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“But everyone thinks I did. They’ll destroy me.”
I wanted to tell him he was wrong. That people weren’t like that, but Tommy was right; this was only the beginning. They wouldn’t stop until Abby came home.
“I’ll tell the truth.” I pled with him, willing to do anything if it meant keeping him here. “About the two of us and what Abby saw. I’ll let them know that you were with me the whole time. I’ll make things right.”
“It would only make it worse. Think about what they’ll do to you if they find out you were a part of this. I won’t let that happen.”
“Maybe we should run away together,” I said, only half joking.
“Remember when we tried to do that? What were we, in fourth or fifth grade?” Tommy smiled at the memory.
“I was mad at my parents because they wouldn’t let me get my ears pierced.”
“And you insisted on packing that giant blue suitcase that I had to carry.”
“It was full of very important items,” I said. I unrolled the window and let the air wrap itself around us.
“Oh yeah, you’re right. We needed to bring your favorite books and a bathing suit.”
“You never know when you might need to cool off. And don’t forget I also packed the cookies you ate before we were even a few blocks from my house.”
“Too bad you had to use the bathroom and we needed to turn around and come back.”
“I guess I didn’t plan for everything,” I said and laughed, my body now relaxed. “I was so mad that our parents didn’t even notice we had left.”
“Now they’ll be glad if I left,” Tommy said, and reality shook me once again. The mood darkened in the truck.
“That’s not true,” I said, but I was lying. Mom didn’t talk about Tommy to me, but she blamed him; everyone did. I’d heard her talk about him with the people in the circles, his name drifting through the open window.
“Believe me, it would be better for everyone if I was gone,” he said.
“Not for me,” I said, my words a betrayal of my sister and my promise.
“I have to get out of here,” Tommy said.
“Don’t leave me,” I told him, unable to keep the fear out of my voice. “I’ve lost so much already. I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t,” Tommy said.
“Please,” I begged.
Tommy didn’t answer right away, but finally he sighed. “Okay, I’ll stay for now. Until we find Abby. But I can’t make any promises.”
“I’ve made enough promises for the both of us,” I said, and wished that wasn’t true.
When he turned onto our street, I saw a large crowd of people in my yard.
“Do you go out there? To the circles?” Tommy asked.
“My mom keeps trying to get me to, but Tessa and I think they’re a bit nuts.”
“Yeah,” Tommy said in a way that I couldn’t tell if he was agreeing with me or not.
“You can park at your place. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
“I don’t mind dropping you off,” Tommy said.
“I do,” I said, the meaning of my words obvious.
I told myself it was because of the woman who yelled at me the night of the dance. If she flipped when I went to homecoming, what would she do if I showed up with Tommy? Would anyone understand why we were together in the truck? I didn’t even know how to view it myself. But what I did know was that once again, I was a coward, unable to face the truth, especially when Tommy was willing to stay here for me and needed it the most.
64
Mom came into the kitchen that evening as I washed the dishes. They’d been sitting in dirty dishwater since yesterday, and we were
out of silverware. The way Mom was these days, she probably hadn’t even noticed them piled in the sink.
“I can do that,” she said as she walked behind me.
Instead, I lifted my hands out of the water and pointed toward the towels. “You can dry.”
She grabbed a towel and took each plate as I passed it to her. I could smell her rose-scented hand lotion. It was a smell I was familiar with, but hadn’t been reminded of for weeks. I wasn’t sure if it was because I hadn’t been this close to her in such a long time or if she had stopped wearing it.
I dunked a plate underwater and scrubbed it.
“You should think about coming outside,” Mom said. “Tomorrow night we’re doing a prayer vigil.”
“I’ve told you this before. There’s nothing there for me.” I picked at a piece of dried-on egg with my fingernail. I sounded like a broken record. I wished that we could just be together here instead of listening to her talk about the circles once again. It seemed as if those people invaded everything, stealing Mom away with their nonsense and pointless vigil.
She went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “I can feel your sister when I’m out there. We all can. It’s like she’s at the edge of the woods waiting for us to find her,” she said.
The truth in her words shocked me, and I dropped the plate I was holding. It shattered around my feet.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
I bent down and picked up the pieces, holding them in my hands. A jagged section cut into my palm. I let go of it and a thin line of blood appeared.
A wave of dizziness washed over me. Mom pressed a cool wet towel into my palm. It was nice to have her take care of me, a feeling that seemed foreign to me now after we had been so consumed by bringing Abby home.
“Hold it tight, and don’t let go. You need to put pressure against it. Go sit at the table, and I’ll clean this up.”
I didn’t argue. I was woozy. I never could look at blood, mine or anybody else’s. I wasn’t even able to watch a TV character get a shot without feeling as if I was going to pass out.
Mom cleaned up the dish with a little broom and joined me at the table. My hand throbbed, but I didn’t care, because Mom was here and for this brief moment, she was my old mom. I’d forgotten how much I missed just being with her.
A Void the Size of the World Page 18
