Quicksilver

by R. J. Anderson

  This whole conversation was beginning to feel surreal. “Twenty minutes?”

  “Good. I’ll tell my grandparents to pick you up there. And your dad said not to call him. He’ll call you in an hour or so. Gotta go.”

  Click.

  I lowered the phone and found Barry peering down at me from the top of the ramp. “Problems?” he asked.

  “No,” I lied. “I just have to leave a bit earlier tonight.”

  1 0 0 1 1 0

  From the outside Milo’s grandparents’ place didn’t look like much, just the right side of a two-story semi with dirty white siding and peeling shutters. The driveway was cracked in three places, and the front steps had an eight-degree tilt to the left. But inside the house was cozy and spotlessly clean, with tropical plants standing in pots and spilling over the tops of the bookcases and framed Bible verses hanging on the walls.

  Most of the verses were in Korean, but the one directly across from me was in English: LET THE BEAUTY OF THE LORD OUR GOD BE UPON US. It was done in brush calligraphy and decorated with silk flowers that looked handmade. Maybe that was Mrs. Park’s hobby.

  “I am sorry you’ve had such a frightening experience,” said Milo’s grandmother, pouring me a cup of herbal tea. Her voice was soft and lilting, every word precise. “This must be very hard for you.”

  “Thank you,” I said, suppressing a shiver. It had been raining when I left the makerspace, but I’d only got slightly damp, so why did I feel so cold? As Mrs. Park poured more tea for her husband and herself, I clutched the mug to my chest, inhaling deep breaths of grassy-smelling steam. Relax, I told myself. You’re safe here.

  Still, it was hard not to wonder why two near-total strangers would go out of their way to help me. Sure, they’d come to my register a few times, and I’d always smiled and tried to make conversation. But what had I done to earn their hospitality? Nothing, as far as I could see. So either they adored Milo so much that they’d do anything he wanted or they had some motive of their own…

  Like suspecting their grandson was going out with me, for instance. It was the most natural explanation. But if they’d guessed that we were together, did they approve or disapprove? They’d treated me graciously so far, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. My parents were polite to everybody too, even people they despised.

  Milo’s grandfather broke into my thoughts, asking whether I had talked to the police about the man who was threatening me. I was wondering how to explain that my “stalker” was an ex-cop who apparently had half the local force eating doughnuts out of his hand when the phone rang, and Mrs. Park answered it. She spoke a few words in Korean and handed the receiver to her husband, who rose and went into the study, shutting the door behind him.

  “Someone from the church,” she said. “A pastor’s life is very busy.”

  I knew there was a Korean church in town. I hadn’t realized Milo’s grandfather was the pastor. It should have been a relief to know that the Parks had taken me in as an act of Christian charity, but somehow it didn’t help much. Especially when I glanced toward the dining room and spotted a text reading THE TRUTH WILL MAKE YOU FREE.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. “Please excuse me,” I said to Mrs. Park, setting my cup down and getting up quickly from the sofa. “It’s my dad calling.”

  1 0 0 1 1 1

  The conversation went better than I’d feared, at least to begin with. Dad had already guessed that the guy who’d come into the store must be Deckard, so he wasn’t surprised to hear it. He even agreed that I’d done the right thing by going to Milo’s grandparents instead of coming home. But the best plan he could come up with was for him and Mom to pack some suitcases, pick me up, and jump on the first plane to Calgary—and there was no way I could go along with that.

  “Even if Deckard knows where we live, it’s not like he’s going to crash through the front door and hold us at gunpoint,” I argued as I paced across the Parks’ back patio and onto the lawn. It was too quiet inside for private conversation, so I’d gone outside to take the call. “This isn’t the USA, and he’s not a policeman anymore. Besides, it’s me he wants, not you or Mom, so if I’m obviously not at home—”

  “Obviously? I can’t see how it’s going to be obvious unless we let him in to search the place. And then what are we supposed to tell him? That you ran away?”

  I almost said yes, but that wouldn’t work, because then Deckard would have the perfect excuse to call out his cop buddies to search for me. “Not exactly,” I said. “Tell him I’ve left town, with your permission. And that you don’t know where I’ve gone or when I’ll be back.”

  Dad spluttered. “Are you crazy? There’s no way we’d let you take off on your own without—”

  “I said you should tell him that, not I’m actually planning to do it. I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want Deckard to leave you and Mom alone.”

  “And you think he’ll give up that easily?” Dad asked. “I’m not afraid of Deckard: he can’t do anything to me. But your mother’s a different story. If he turns up at the front door looking for you, she’ll never feel safe in this town again.”

  He lowered his voice on the last sentence, as though he’d only just realized how loudly he’d been talking. But I could tell there was more going on than that. “You mean you haven’t told Mom anything about what happened tonight?” I asked. “She doesn’t know about Deckard or—any of it?”

  “Not yet.” He sighed. “She was in the washroom when Milo called me. He told me you were safe for now, and I … didn’t want to spoil her evening out.”

  But that wouldn’t stop him from telling her the truth eventually, unless I gave him a reason not to. Somehow I had to convince him to let me stay here until I’d finished the transceiver … but how?

  Then, in a white-lightning flash of intuition, I knew.

  “Okay,” I said. “How about this? Don’t tell Mom anything yet. Take her out of town for the weekend—use that getaway package you got from work or something. I’ll stay with Milo’s grandparents, where Deckard can’t find me. If he comes to the house tonight or tomorrow, it’ll be empty and he can draw his own conclusions.”

  “And what good’s that going to do? All he has to do is stake out the place and wait until we get back.”

  “He won’t if he thinks we’re gone for good,” I said. “There’s a guy I know who’s brilliant with computers, and he owes me a favor. He can fake up some flight and hotel reservations, and make Deckard think we’ve gone to Newfoundland or something.” Assuming I could get hold of Sebastian on short notice, of course. But I suspected that if I really needed him, he’d be around.

  “Then what?” Dad asked. “Seems to me we’re just delaying the inevitable. He’s going to figure out the truth eventually.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But isn’t it worth trying? We can’t keep moving and changing our names every six months. I’ve seen the bills, Dad. I know how hard you’ve been working. Next time we move we’re going to end up in a trailer park if we’re lucky, and after that we’ll be living on the streets. Do you really want that? Because I don’t.”

  Dad was silent, and I knew I’d hurt him. He’d worked hard to protect his family, and I’d as good as told him that he’d failed. But he wasn’t arguing, either, and that meant he was close to giving in.

  “Dad,” I said, “It’s not that I don’t appreciate everything you and Mom have done for me. You’ve given up so much…” My voice wobbled on the last word. I swallowed and tried again. “Look, if my plan to get rid of Deckard doesn’t work, then fine, we can run. But can we at least try my idea first? Please?”

  Six seconds ticked by in silence. Then my dad said heavily, “All right. I’ll talk to your mother.”

  1 0 1 0 0 0

  As soon as I got off the phone with Dad I texted Sebastian, and this time he answered right away. Once I’d explained the situation to him, he even seemed to relish the challenge.

  –Leave Deckard to me. I’ll keep him busy.r />
  –Good to know you haven’t lost your knack for messing with people’s heads. At least this time you can do it to somebody who deserves it.

  Which was rude and possibly ill-advised, but I wasn’t worried about offending Sebastian. He needed this transceiver too badly to risk losing me, and he was hardly going to sell me out to Deckard because he didn’t like my attitude. In fact, he was probably smart enough to have guessed where my sniping remarks were coming from—because it was easier to blame him for Alison’s unhappiness than to admit that I was just as guilty.

  And I was. Because I knew the truth about Meridian, about what had really happened last summer. I’d just been too much of a coward to talk about it, even to the one person who needed my honesty most.

  “Niki?” Mrs. Park was leaning out the sliding door, looking around for me. I stepped back into the light.

  “I’m here,” I said.

  “It’s too dark outside,” she chided. “Come in now. I have your room ready.”

  I took off my shoes and followed her up the stairs to where the spare bedroom waited for me, its double bed draped in white linens. There was a flowery nightgown laid out on the bed, faded but clean, with a set of towels and a new toothbrush—still in the package—beside it.

  “You should sleep,” Milo’s grandmother said. “You have had a shock and you must be tired. You will feel better tomorrow.”

  In fact it was barely ten o’clock, and I wasn’t tired at all. But though her voice was sweet there was steel in it, and I knew better than to protest. “You’ve been very kind,” I said. “Thank you for everything.”

  Mrs. Park gave a satisfied nod and closed the door. I waited until her footsteps receded, then pulled out my laptop and phone. If I was stuck here, then at least I could get some work done.

  I was halfway through a resignation letter to my manager when Milo texted me.

  –Settled in all right? GPs taking good care of you?

  –Very. What did you tell them???

  –Same thing I told your dad. Only with bonus stuff about how you were a nice girl and this was totally not your fault. And how we were just friends (sorry about the “just”), but I couldn’t put you up at my place because my mom’s still on night shift, and What Would The Neighbors Think?

  –Nice.

  And I meant it. I’d been feeling guilty about making Milo lie to his grandparents, but that was essentially the truth, or at least as much of it as they needed to know.

  –I’d come over, but my grandmother would give me the stank eye if I showed up at this hour. Still OK to get into the m-space tomorrow?

  –Yeah, no problem. Shawn’s letting me in at 10. You coming?

  –For a while. See you then.

  I finished my letter of resignation and sent it off to my manager via phone, since the Parks didn’t have Wi-Fi. Then I undressed and climbed into bed. But no matter how many binary numbers I counted, sleep refused to come. I couldn’t stop thinking about Deckard and my parents and Sebastian … and now more than ever, Alison.

  For the past week I’d allowed the urgency of building the transceiver to push her to the back of my mind, telling myself it wasn’t safe to reach out to her anyway. But Deckard wasn’t in Sudbury spying on Alison anymore. He was here in southern Ontario, looking for me. And what had happened tonight had made me realize just how selfish I’d been to ignore Alison’s letter.

  The fear that had jolted through me when Milo told me Deckard was in the store, that sense of being vulnerable and horribly alone … that was nothing compared to what Alison must be going through. Because I wasn’t alone, not really: I had Milo, and I had my parents, and in a weird way I even had Sebastian. But Alison had nobody who understood what she’d been through or how she was feeling. Nobody who was willing to admit it, anyway.

  I’d had enough of waiting for Sebastian to do the right thing. It was time to throw away my pride, my guilt, and all the fears that had been holding me back and tell Alison the truth.

  I sat up quickly and switched on the bedside light. Then I picked up my phone and started typing.

  1 0 1 0 0 1

  The next morning I ate an early, quiet breakfast with Milo’s grandparents, helped Mrs. Park wash the dishes, and thanked them profusely for their kindness. I told them I had plans for the day and wouldn’t impose on them any longer, but I’d always be grateful for their hospitality.

  “Your parents,” said Pastor Park. “Are they coming to get you? Or would you like us to take you home?”

  He spoke mildly, and the lines of his face were gentle. But there was something unnervingly shrewd in the way he looked at me, and I found myself stammering out the truth before I could even think to lie.

  “My parents aren’t home right now. They’ve gone to Toronto for the weekend.”

  Mrs. Park gave me a sharp look, and I could tell she didn’t think much of my parents. So I added quickly, “It’s not their fault. They wanted to take me away with them, but I told them I’d rather stay here. I have a lot of work to do on a—a school project, and I can’t afford to leave it.”

  That struck the right note. Milo’s grandparents exchanged looks, and I could see they were impressed by my commitment to academics. “So, then,” Milo’s grandmother said, “you will stay here until your parents come back.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t—”

  “Don’t argue with my wife,” Pastor Park told me with a half-smile. “She’s a very determined woman. Now, tell us where you need to go, and we’ll drive you there. Would you like to stop at your house first?”

  So that was how I ended up in front of the makerspace at precisely ten o’clock, with clean clothes and a packed lunch in my bag, waving to Milo’s grandparents as they drove away. I was heading inside, still a little dazed by all this efficient care, when Dad texted me with an update.

  He and Mom had packed up and left the house last night without any sign of Deckard. They’d left Crackers with our next-door neighbor, who adored him and would spoil him rotten. They were staying at a nice hotel in downtown Toronto, and Mom was going to call me in a few minutes to see how I was getting along.

  Which meant that somehow, Dad had convinced Mom that he’d been planning this trip for ages. He’d told her I’d arranged to stay with Milo’s family for the weekend, so she wouldn’t worry about leaving me alone. Then he’d whisked her straight from their Friday night date to a romantic getaway weekend without a hint that there was anything unusual, let alone dangerous, going on.

  So when she called, I kept my voice bright and confident. I asked her what shows she and Dad would be seeing and told her to have a great time and promised that Milo and I wouldn’t throw any parties while the two of them were away, ha-ha. By the time I hung up, I felt thoroughly sick of myself.

  When I walked into the makerspace, Barry was there, peering under the dust cover at my nearly completed transceiver. I braced myself for another barrage of questions, but when he saw me, he only mumbled a greeting and went back to work on his own project, a vintage radio he was converting to an MP3 player. So I wasn’t busted yet.

  Still, the faster I got the transceiver finished and out of here, the better. And I was so close now—two or three hours of work at most. Test the power amplifier, finish up the relay circuit and cabling, and assemble it all in the enclosure. Then all I had to do was install the firmware Sebastian had sent me, and I’d be done. I switched on the soldering iron, dumped out the last of my components, and went to work with a vengeance.

  My hands moved smoothly from one task to another, obeying my slightest thought without hesitation. My eyes stayed focused on the board, immune to all distractions, while my mind slipped into a heightened, almost dreamlike state. It had been a long time since I’d allowed myself to sink this deep into a project, and the cautious part of me warned that I might regret it. But I didn’t care anymore. I loved this feeling too much.

  Closer and closer. The enclosure took shape beneath my hands, back and sides slotting smoothly into
the base. I mounted the transceiver board, slotted in the relay module, and hooked up the cables. Almost complete now—just a few more steps and I’d be ready to power on. I could feel my confidence soaring, the old thrill tingling inside me…

  Behind me, Milo cleared his throat.

  “Oh, sorry,” I said, blinking up at him. “How long have you been there?”

  “Half an hour,” he said. “But don’t let me stop you. You look like you’re on a roll.”

  “I’m almost finished,” I said. “Just give me a few more minutes.” I dived back into the enclosure, and the world vanished again.

  A few in this case ended up being twenty-three, thanks to my perfectionist streak. Even once the transceiver was fully assembled, I couldn’t declare victory until I’d hooked it up to my laptop and installed Sebastian’s firmware. But when the green light glowed on the transceiver’s front panel, and I saw that the test sequence had run perfectly, I let out a whoop and punched the air. “Done it!”

  Milo came over to inspect my handiwork, running his hands over the smooth top of the case. “Looks fantastic,” he said. “Like you bought it from some high-tech dealer. I can’t believe you put all those components together so fast.”

  “Neither can I,” said Barry, swiveling to face us. “This is topnotch work, Niki. How do you know all this stuff at your age?”

  “I’m highly motivated,” I said blithely. I knew I ought to be more cautious, but right then I was too busy savoring my triumph to care. Besides, the transceiver was finished, so what did it matter what Barry thought of it anymore?

  Barry lumbered to his feet and came over. “So when are you planning to take it for a test drive?”