Melancholia

by Elle Casey

  I looked at her. She smiled up at me weakly. “I’m not sure.”

  I pulled away, not because I was mad but because I wanted to see her better. Her face fell as we separated, so I took her hand. “Tell us what you think.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s anything at all. But my dad is self-employed and he has clients who come to the house sometimes…” She shrugged again.

  “What does your dad do?” asked Jasmine. “What’s his business?”

  “I have no idea. Something on the computer.”

  “What do you mean you have no idea? How is that even possible?” asked Jasmine, sounding like she didn’t believe Rae.

  “I don’t know … I guess I never asked.”

  “And it never came up in conversation, you never heard your dad talking to one of these clients, your mom never mentioned anything?”

  Rae just shook her head no.

  “Not all parents are as open as yours are, Jasmine.” I had no idea if that was true, but I said it anyway to make Rae feel better. It did seem kind of strange to me, though, that Rae wouldn’t even have a vague idea of what her dad did all day, especially because he was home the whole time.

  “Whatever. I think that’s strange. I’ll bet he was hiding it from you,” said Jasmine. “Did you ever get that impression? That he didn’t want you to know what he was doing?”

  “Like how?” asked Rae. “What do you mean?”

  “Did he lock the door to his computer room? Did he not talk about it at the dinner table? Did your mom ever ask about it in front of you? Did he say you’re not allowed to ever use his computer or go in his office?”

  Rae’s face turned pink. “Um … yeah. Some of that stuff.”

  Jasmine sighed. “Which ones?”

  “He locked the door to the home office, but he said it was to keep my mom from cleaning in there. He said she cleaned once and rearranged all his stuff and then he couldn’t find anything.”

  “What else?” Jasmine probed.

  “He never talked about work. Neither did my mom. But I always thought it was because he was so obsessed over me. They always wanted to just talk about me, what I’d done, who I’d talked to, and what we’d talked about.”

  “Sounds suffocating,” I said without thinking.

  “Yeah.” Rae nodded. “Very.”

  “What about using the computer? Did you ever try to use it and get in trouble?”

  Rae shook her head. “No, I always had my own computer, so I never had to use his. And since I never went into his office, I never saw his computer.”

  “In all the years you’ve lived with your parents … seventeen years … you never once went into his office?” asked Jasmine, her head tipped down as she looked up at Rae.

  Rae bit her lip. “I might have sneaked in once. A year or so ago. Just to see what the big deal was.”

  “Good for you!” said Jasmine, grinning broadly. “What’d you see?”

  “Nothing. Just some papers and his computer with a screensaver on it.”

  “Oh.” Clearly Jasmine had been hoping for a big clue to crack the case with. I felt like I was watching a kids’ detective show on TV.

  “I think you’re nuts,” I said, looking at Jasmine.

  “How so?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.

  “You think her parents are into something weird? Is that it?”

  “Did you, or did you not hear her father - if that’s who he really is - talk about other people searching for her? People my dad doesn’t want to mess with, according to Rae’s dad?”

  “Yeah, I heard that. But that’s just a father threatening his detective juice on someone. That doesn’t mean anything. He’s just worried about his daughter like any dad would be.”

  “You think he’s not really my dad?” asked Rae. She sounded like she was going to cry.

  “Who knows?” said Jasmine. “Maybe he was assigned to be your dad.”

  “Oh, come on,” I said. “That’s ridiculous. You’re acting like Rae’s some kind of alien. That’s bullshit.”

  “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. Besides, I’m just floating theories here. No need to get your panties in a twist.” Jasmine turned back around and went to the keyboard again.

  I took Rae by the shoulders and turned her to face me. “Don’t listen to anything she’s saying right now. She’s talking out of her butt.”

  “I’m sitting right here, dickcheese. I can hear you.”

  I ignored Jasmine. “All we know is you live with your mother and father and they’re Rainbows and they’re looking for you. That’s it. The rest is just guessing.”

  Tears swam in Rae’s eyes as she spoke. “Except … I’ve always wondered if they really are my parents.”

  Chapter Thirteen: Rae

  I COULDN’T BELIEVE I SAID it out loud. The one worry, the one thing that I’d never said to another living soul was out there now. And I said it to Malcolm and Jasmine.

  “You’re just saying that because of what Jasmine said.” Malcolm was squeezing my shoulders, trying to make me feel better. But nothing could make this okay.

  I tried to explain. “I never thought that about my mom. She and I look alike and we have a bond. A connection. But my dad … I always wondered, ever since I was young. It has nothing to do with what Jasmine said.”

  “Thank you,” said Jasmine, not turning around. “Check this out … it says Mr. Holder has been held for questioning. He’s a person of interest in your disappearance.”

  I felt terrible. He was a creep, but he wasn’t a murderer or anything. “Oh, crap. That’s awful.”

  “No it’s not,” said Malcolm, frowning. “That turd came after both of us and tried to kidnap you twice! He totally deserves it.”

  “Yeah, I agree. Better off that the cops have him than him running around town looking for you too,” said Jasmine. “There’s no evidence of you on him, so he won’t be charged with anything.”

  “She was in his car,” said Malcolm. “That’s DNA evidence of her being in his frigging car.”

  “And that back seat was … nasty,” I said, imagining all the other DNA that the police would find if they checked.

  “A sea of evidence to sift through,” said Malcolm. “Gross.”

  “Good. They’ll hold him longer. There’s none of her blood, so he’s not going to fry.” Jasmine turned around. “Anyway, back to the daddy or no-daddy conversation. Why did you have suspicions? What tipped you off?”

  “Could you not say it like that?” asked Malcolm. “We don’t know it’s true.”

  “He never felt connected, you know? To me or my mom very much. And I don’t look like him.”

  “Lots of kids don’t look like their parents,” Malcolm said. He sounded really mad, but not at me, at Jasmine.

  I shrugged. “I could be totally wrong. I’m just telling you what came to mind several times growing up with him.”

  “Did you ever ask him?” Jasmine was leaning forward, anxious to hear the answer.

  “No way. He’d blow up at a question like that.”

  “Why?” she asked. “Guilty conscience?”

  “No. He’s just like that. He has a temper.”

  “I thought he was a Rainbow or whatever,” said Malcolm.

  “He is. But he gets worried. And the idea of me not being his daughter would freak him out. Believe me, anything I say that can be taken as a hint that I don’t want to be with him, is always blown waaaay out of proportion. My parents expect me to live with them until they die.”

  “Freaky,” said Jasmine, turning back around.

  I looked up at the monitors and saw Mrs. Butts looking directly into the camera. “You guys can come up now.”

  Jasmine put the computers into sleep mode and stood. “Come on, let’s go up. I didn’t get to finish my breakfast, and I’m tired from all that jogging I did.”

  “How many miles did you run?” I asked, trying to go with the flow of joking rather than collapsing
in the tears that threatened.

  “Oh, five. Six maybe. I lost count.”

  She walked up the stairs ahead of me, and Malcolm followed. The three of us went into the kitchen where we joined Kootch and Jasmine’s parents. Her mom pulled the blind down so we couldn’t be seen from the outside, just in case there was anyone stupid enough to try and climb over Ho Ho’s fence again.

  “That was interesting,” said Mrs. Butts, leaning over to put her hand on my shoulder. “You okay? Still want to stay?”

  “Yes. Now more than ever.” I felt a little guilty about admitting that, but it was the truth. Now I was questioning my dad’s motives in more ways than one, and until I had some answers, I wasn’t going to be able to trust him. I had a bad feeling he was more than just a Rainbow.

  Mrs. Butts nodded her head, dropping her hand from my shoulder and leaning back against the counter near the sink.

  “So, anyone interested in hearing my theories?” asked Jasmine, crunching on a piece of extra-crispy bacon.

  “By all means,” said her mom. “Enlighten us.” She wasn’t being sarcastic at all. It made me jealous to see a girl my age being treated like an equal by parents. That never happened at my house.

  “Okay, so here it is, stripped-down version. Rae’s dad? Not her dad. Caretaker only. Rae’s mom? Probably really her mom. Somehow being controlled by the caretaker. People searching for her? Caretaker’s employers. Bam. That’s it.” She popped another piece of bacon into her mouth, smiling as she crunched away.

  Mr. Butts looked at me. “Any possibility this is correct?”

  All eyes were on me.

  Kootch spoke before I could. “That’s nuts. You guys are off the range, man.”

  Jasmine reached up and slapped him on the face lightly. “Shut it, hosebag. The grown-ups are talking.”

  He snatched her hand in midair and squeezed it hard before letting it go, scowling at her. She just smiled.

  I spoke as if Kootch hadn’t interrupted. “I don’t know. It sounds ridiculous, I agree with Kootch on that. But I told Jasmine and Malcolm downstairs … I’ve always wondered about my dad. At some point when I was younger I started thinking he wasn’t my real father.”

  “What made this happen? Was it something he said or something he did?” asked Mrs. Butts. She was so nice. I trusted her, maybe because she always seemed like she really cared. She wasn’t faking it.

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember. It’s been a long time that I’ve been thinking this way.” I shrugged, feeling really stupid about not having proof and accusing one of my parents of not being a real parent. It was like I was selling them out or something.

  Malcolm took my hand and laced his fingers with mine. I leaned into him, grateful for his support. I was so glad he wasn’t turning away from me when I was being such a jerk to my poor parents.

  “Her dad works from home on a computer, keeps the room locked. Even her mom’s not allowed in.”

  Kootch snorted. “And this somehow makes him not her father. Man, Butts, you should be a private dick for a living. You’re amazing. Maybe I should call you Sherlock Homey.”

  “Just remember,” she said, facing him, her expression very serious, “you forced me to do this.” Her hands came up so fast, I didn’t even know what she was doing until it was already done.

  “Ow, shit, Butts!” Kootch howled, putting his hands over his chest. “Goddammit, they’re gonna be purple now!” He scowled at her and hunched over himself, moving to the other side of the kitchen to get away from her.

  “Kids, do you mind?” asked Mr. Butts. “We’re trying to work here. We don’t have time for the games right now.”

  “Yeah, Kootch. No time for your games,” said Jasmine, sticking her tongue out at him.

  “Back on track,” said Mrs. Butts. “We’ve sent some messages to our contacts to see what they can find out. In the meantime, I think we need to put some plans together.” She looked at Malcolm. “Malcolm, what’s your situation? Who’s looking for you?”

  “No one will look for me for a while. My social worker, Mrs. Gonzalez, is scheduled to be at my house tomorrow after school. If I’m not there, she’ll go to the school next.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “My foster mother is never home. Actually, she’s a missing person now, so the social worker was going to move me to another home on Monday.”

  “Okay, well, then we won’t worry about that for now. I guess the big question for me is, why do we have a private army out looking for Rae and no one looking for you, if you both have these special talents?”

  “I’m not important,” said Malcolm.

  My heart squeezed in pain for him. I gripped his hand tighter and looked up at him, wanting him to know that he is important to me.

  He looked down and gave me a half-smile that eased the pain in my chest almost all the way.

  “You are important,” said Mr. Butts. “And forgive the vernacular, but you’re a powerful asset. I think someone’s already identified Rae as an asset, but the question is, why not you?”

  “Tell us about Mr. Holder and Derek,” said Mrs. Butts, motioning to the corner of the room. “But let’s sit at the little table over there so we can relax and no one will be able to see us while we’re figuring things out.”

  I sat down next to Malcolm and waited for Kootch to bring in some extra chairs before continuing. Once everyone was settled, Malcolm and I told them about our experience with the car accident and our subsequent run-in with Mr. Holder at the party house. Malcolm also told us the details of what had happened in the bathroom, when Derek and Mr. Holder had talked with each other not knowing Malcolm was in the stall listening.

  “So Mr. Holder, who you’d never met before, suddenly shows a huge interest in getting you alone?” asked Mrs. Butts.

  “Yes. That’s what it felt like.”

  “I agree,” said Malcolm. “And if you add in the conversation I heard in the bathroom earlier in the day, it makes sense that’s what he was trying to do.”

  “And Derek was doing the same?” asked Mr. Butts.

  “Well, it seemed like it. But I never found out actually, since I was rescued.” I grinned at my friends. The memory of how afraid I’d been came rushing back during the telling of the story, and now I remembered also how grateful I had been to see them there at the gas station. They didn’t have to do that. They’d taken a risk for me, a girl they hardly knew, and none of them had been feeling the Rainbow vibe at the time either. It made me feel special.

  “The dick smashed my window in, he was so set on getting Rae out. Freak owes me like three hundred bucks.” Kootch scowled.

  “Okay, so somehow, Rae, you moved from your last school and ended up at this school here where there were a teacher and a student interested in you, both of whom I assume have been there for a while …” Mrs. Butts looked at the nodding heads of Jasmine, Kootch, and Malcolm. “…And they had strong suspicions you were a certain person they were looking for. Is that right? Am I missing anything?”

  We looked around the table at each other. Everyone shook their heads no. “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “And they didn’t know about Malcolm,” said Mr. Butts. “Interesting.”

  “What happened at your last school, Rae? Why did you leave?” asked Mrs. Butts.

  I knew she was just trying to solve the puzzle, but my heart sank over the idea of telling them what had happened. I was still ashamed over it, even though I knew it wasn’t really my fault.

  “I … uh … well, I had to move.”

  “Why?” asked Jasmine. “What happened? Something must have happened to upset your parents or whatever.”

  I looked down at the table, using my fingertip to trace the lines in the woodgrain. “Well, it was … messy. Bad. Scary.”

  “If you can’t share, that’s okay,” said Mrs. Butts, leaning over the table, trying to catch my eye. She was being so nice, and I wanted to help, but I didn’t look up. I was too embarrassed.
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  “You should tell us, even though we can see it’s difficult,” said Mr. Butts. “Every little story has a clue we can use to put this thing together.”

  I sighed. “Fine. I’ll tell you. It just brings up some memories I’d rather forget.” I glanced at Malcolm, but his face was like a mask. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  “I was living in South Carolina. I’d been going to the school for about five months, which is really good for me. There was this guy, Jerry, in a couple of my classes. One of them was Drama. I was forced into taking the class because I don’t play an instrument and at that school, you had to do music or drama. We were required to do a play, which we practiced all semester. I didn’t try out for any roles, but the teacher made me be an understudy for the lead. It was a Rainbow thing, him making me. I tried to avoid it, but eventually just gave up trying. Otherwise, I painted backdrops. I just wanted to stay out of the way and do whatever I could to not be on that stage and not be interacting with people.” I took a breath, noticing that everyone was staring at me, completely dragged into the story. I took another deep breath in and out and continued. “The morning of the opening, something happened to the girl playing the lead.”

  “Let me guess … she got mysteriously injured,” said Jasmine.

  I nodded. “She fell down some stairs and broke her ankle. She said someone pushed her, but there were a lot of people there at the time, and no one saw anything except her going down.”

  “So you had to play the lead,” said Kootch.

  “Yes. And Jerry was the lead male role. He’s big. On the basketball team. At the end of the play we had to kiss. I was able to avoid touching him for almost the entire play, but at the end, there was no way to avoid it. I tried to tell the teacher and Jerry that I had a cold sore, but they didn’t believe me. Or maybe they didn’t care, I don’t know. I tried to turn my head, but Jerry kissed me, right on the mouth. It was all over after that. He became obsessed.”

  “Yeah, that happens to me all the time,” joked Jasmine. “I have to beat them off with a stick.”