RULES FOR DISAPPEARING
BY WITNESS PROTECTION PRISONER #18A7R04M:
Don’t fall into a routine. Shake things up. Doing the same thing over and over makes you feel comfortable. And feeling comfortable is bad.
WEDNESDAYS at the restaurant are busy. Pearl says it’s all those Bible-beaters eating early before church. I haven’t stopped moving since I walked in at four, but I can’t get Agent Thomas off my mind. When I got home from the coffee shop, I searched through my bag for some sort of tracker or bug or something. I hadn’t been in that coffeehouse long, and it’s freaking me out how fast he found me.
Ethan had the nerve to show up around six. His boots and jeans were covered in mud again, so I figured he’d been at the farm. He and Teeny have been in the kitchen ever since. Every time I hear them laugh, it pisses me off. He can’t accuse me of being a liar and then waltz in here and win my little sister over. He’s probably back there pumping her for more info. I’ve worked for months to make her happy, but two days making pizzas with him and she’s back to her old self. So not fair.
Catherine and another girl from my homeroom come in to Pearl’s a little after Ethan. She seems surprised to see me behind the counter.
“Hey, Meg! How long have you been working here?”
“Not long. What can I get you?”
They order a seafood pizza and two drinks. Gross. The other girl, I think her name is Julie, heads to a booth, but Catherine lingers at the counter.
“So, how do you like Natchitoches so far?” she asks.
“It’s fine. The people here are really nice,” I answer.
“It’s good to get new people around here. Livens things up.”
Yeah, my family could certainly do that.
“Julie and I are heading down to Fat’s after we eat. It’s an old bar near the marina on Cane River, and they have some pretty cool bands come through there. If you want to go with us, we can wait until you get off,” Catherine says.
This is so unexpected. And friendly.
“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to get home. I have a ton of homework.”
“Okay, that’s cool. Maybe we’ll see you this weekend.” She joins Julie at the table, and I try to keep busy and not think about how much fun it would be to hang out at some old bar down by the river.
Shortly after Catherine and Julie leave, Dad pulls into the parking lot, and I run outside to catch him before he comes in. I need to talk to him, and I’d rather not do that inside the restaurant.
“Hey. Teeny busy making pizzas again?”
“Yeah. Dad, we need to talk. Have you been home yet?” I grind my teeth, stopping myself from totally bawling him out on the sidewalk.
His whole body stiffens. “Not yet.”
“Mom’s bad. Every day this week, Dad.” I pace around in small circles.
His fists are clenched by his side. “You think I don’t know that?”
“She’s gonna kill herself before long. Is that what you want?” My voice is too loud, and customers inside Pearl’s are staring at us through the window, but I’m too pissed to stop.
Dad lets out a muffled curse and hits the car roof. “Of course that’s not what I want. All I ever wanted was for this family to be safe and happy.” He kicks a stone off the sidewalk.
I let out a snort of disgust. “Well, we don’t seem very safe, and we sure as hell aren’t happy.” I turn to get Teeny, but stop when I get to the door. “Please tell me what you did. It’s making me crazy. Maybe if I understood it—all of this would make a little more sense.” And I could figure out how to get out of this.
His face turns several shades of red, then moves into the purple tones. Maybe if he strokes out, that’ll take care of everything. I feel guilty the second the thought runs through my head.
“Leave Teeny here. I’ll bring her home with me. Go take care of Mom,” I say.
I walk back into Pearl’s and run straight to the bathroom. There are two stalls, so I go into the oversized one and sit on the floor, pressing my fingers to my eyes.
The door opens, but I stay on the floor, silent. Two small legs appear in front of me.
“Pearl told me to check on you. Are you okay?” Teeny’s little head pops into view from under the stall door.
I rub my eyes to make sure no water leaked out. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
When I open the door, Teeny looks worried. I pull her into a hug. “It’s all good.”
She hugs me back, hard. “I saw Dad leave. Does that mean I get to stay?”
“Yeah. Just tonight, though.”
Teeny looks up and smiles. “I’ll go tell Pearl and Ethan.” She sprints from the bathroom.
I walk to the sink and splash some cold water on my face. A pale-faced, dark-haired girl stares back at me from the mirror, and I wonder if the old me is in there at all anymore.
When I push through the door to leave the bathroom, I nearly run into Ethan.
“Everything okay?” His hand is on my arm. Whenever we’re close now, he seems to find a reason to touch me. The rough texture on his palm sends tingly little shivers across my skin.
My mind goes blank and we stand there, staring at each other. And then I remember I’m pissed at him.
I step back. “Yeah, fine. Mary’s staying.”
“She ran back there to tell us.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I shouldn’t have said that in the courtyard. You’re right. If you say you’re from Lewisville, well then, you’re from Lewisville.”
“I don’t know why you find it so hard to believe I’m from Arkansas.”
He leans against the wall, and the dimple makes an appearance. “It’s the way you look at things around here. It’s all new to you. And the way you said ‘hick’ that first day, like you wouldn’t be caught dead near one. I mean, you’re from Arkansas, right? Place is full of them.”
He chuckles and I can’t help but smile.
He steps in a bit closer. “And you sound different.”
Good Lord, he’s observant. And determined to invade my personal space. “My grandparents are from up north, and I spent a lot of time with them when I was little.” I’m going off script here, but I’ve got to satisfy his curiosity. “Mom told me I never really found my place to fit in.”
“You weren’t in health class today.”
The doctor’s appointment answer is on the tip of my tongue when I realize this is my chance to see just how much the suits are watching. “Well, you pissed me off and I didn’t want to see you. Why does everyone get to leave for lunch, but I get busted skipping Health?”
Ethan laughs and says, “Should have told me you wanted to cut. Lunch is easy; no one’s looking for you. Knighton’s a different story. He comes off pretty chill, but he’s a tight-ass over attendance. Probably called it in when you weren’t there.”
Okay, maybe Agent Thomas’s answer makes more sense now. “I was mad—I couldn’t come ask you the best way to skip class.”
“Was mad? Does this mean I’m off your shit list?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
“Knighton and Thurman are the only ones who care. You’re safe cutting out on anybody else. Or you can always tell them you’re sick, and they’ll send you to the office. Duck out instead.”
We stand there with nothing else to say, and it’s awkward. It’s hard to hold eye contact with him, especially since he’s so close. “Well, I guess I better get back to the counter.”
Ethan smiles, and I swear he knows he’s getting to me. The next few customers whiz in and out, and finally business dies down. I peek into the kitchen, and Teeny is having the time of her life.
Maybe it was a bad move getting a job here. When we leave this placement, all the progress Teeny’s made will be for nothing. But I need the money, and the little bit in tips I’ve gotten this week is really nice.
While I clean, my conversation with Agent Thomas rolls through my head over and over.
I’m sure if you think hard enough, you can figure some of it out.
As much as I hate to relive those last few months and weeks, I take Agent Thomas’s suggestion. I think back six weeks before we moved, and there’s not a single thing that wasn’t normal.
Dad worked all the time. Check.
Mom skipped around from one charity committee to another. Check.
I go back months…nothing. My life was pretty damn perfect, at least until I found out my friends were frauds. My stomach flips, just like it does every time I try to think about that night. Everything in me wants to push this memory away, bury it where it can’t hurt me, but I think about Agent Thomas and what he said, and I can’t hide from that night anymore.
I close my eyes and I can see us—Laura, Elle, and me lounging poolside. We were at my house, painting our nails, discussing clothing options, and making plans for the night. Teeny had a friend over, and they were driving us nuts. They did cannonballs right next to us and soaked all our magazines. Elle screamed, “Teeny, quit being a pain in the ass,” which is what she said to Teeny on a daily basis. And then Teeny turned around and shook her butt at her before doing another cannonball.
I open my eyes and glance toward the kitchen, watching Teeny with Pearl and Ethan. She’s better now, but still miles away from who she used to be.
Moving to the tables in the front of the dining room, I struggle to bring the images back to my mind. Flash-forward a few hours, and I’m in Elle’s house, headed up the stairs. Sophie, Elle’s toy poodle, was snoozing outside her room, and I bent down to scratch her belly, just the way she liked it. And that’s when I heard my name and the high-pitched laugh Laura reserved for when she was being flirty.
I push the memory away, scared to hear the words I know will slice me down the middle. Dropping down in the booth, I physically brace myself as I replay the conversation I’ve been avoiding for months.
“Brandon, I don’t get why you have to go to those lame dinner parties. Just tell your dad you have other plans.”
I peeked into the room. Laura was on the bed, phone to her ear, while Elle was leaning into the mirror over her dresser, applying mascara.
Brandon? Lame dinner party? My mom had another dinner party planned for the next night for Dad’s boss, and I knew that’s what Laura was talking about.
Laura laughed again, and the sound grated on my nerves. “Brandon, you’re terrible. She’s liked you since freshman year. Just tell her you don’t like her and put her out of her misery.” And then Elle turned from the mirror and said, “Tell him to be nice about it. Don’t hurt her feelings.”
Laura laughed again (God, how annoying) and said, “Maybe we can hook up later. She’ll be with us, but I’ll get Elle to distract her so I can slip away. I can meet you at your house.”
I can remember the fiery hands of rage creeping up my neck. And then the suffocating pain of my best friends’ betrayal. I did have a huge crush on Brandon, and had since freshman year, and they both knew it and now so did Brandon. And Laura, sweet, nice, people-pleasing Laura, was hooking up with him behind my back. And Elle was covering for her. Those bitches.
I ran out of Elle’s house. There was no way I was going to give them the satisfaction of seeing me so upset.
And then things get fuzzy. I remember seeing some girls from my school that I knew, but not well, and them telling me about a party at some sophomore’s house. Did I want to go? Hell, yeah! I got in the car with them, and that’s when the drinking started.
I sit in the booth at Pearl’s and try like hell to remember the rest of the evening. There were lots of people, and the music was loud, but that was exactly what I wanted. I remember drinking a lot. And dancing. And kissing some random boy—I can’t even picture his face.
By the time I made it home, cop cars had filled the driveway and the suits had made themselves at home. And that was the day I had my first ride in that van with no windows. It was like being on some sick amusement-park ride—feeling the speed and every bump in the road but no way to place where you were. It was the most claustrophobic I’ve ever felt.
That night was a disaster, but not for any reason that has to do with us being in Witness Protection. Agent Thomas was wrong—the only thing I got out of reliving that night was a depressing reminder of how completely my life has fallen apart.
“You about finished in here?” Pearl’s turning off the lights in the kitchen, and Ethan and Teeny are getting their jackets on. I’m still in the booth in the front dining room.
“Yes. Just about done.”
I gather my things from behind the counter, pull on the ugly gray hoodie, and look at Ethan. “Good night, Pearl. Ethan.” I drag Teeny outside.
Both Ethan and Pearl get to the door at the same time.
“Good gracious, girlie, y’all can’t walk home. It’s almost freezing out there. I’ll drive you,” Pearl says.
“I’ll take them, Aunt Pearl. My truck’s right out front,” Ethan says.
Teeny is almost clapping her hands together, she’s so excited. Ethan holds his fist out, and she bumps it with hers. “I can’t let my new friend walk home in the cold.”
Teeny beams when she asks, “Can I sit in the front?”
I can worry and think about The Plan all day long, but I’ve already let Ethan slip into our lives. If for nothing other than seeing Teeny so happy tonight, it’s worth the risk. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
Ethan and Teeny laugh and joke during the short ride home. I contribute nothing.
“Thanks for the ride, Ethan.” Teeny’s voice is higher than normal when she gets out of the truck. Does she have a crush on him?
“No problem. Do y’all ride the bus in the morning?”
Before I can even open my mouth, Teeny blurts out, “Yes, and it’s horrible. It stinks and the kids on my bus are really mean to me. Meg said she hates her bus too, because they’re all freshmen. She said she feels like a total loser.”
My face is crimson by the time Teeny finishes. Ethan chuckles and looks at me. “Are you gonna get mad if I offer to come get y’all in the morning?”
“No.” I’m humiliated.
Teeny jumps up and down next to the truck. “That’s awesome!”
I let out a nervous laugh, but it quickly dies when I see Mom wobble out the front door. I grab Teeny’s arm.
“Girls? Are you out there?”
No, no, no. Teeny stiffens when she hears Mom. Neither of us wants Ethan to see her like this.
“We gotta go. Thanks for the ride.” Teeny and I both sprint up the front steps, pushing Mom back inside.
Dad helps Mom back into bed, and I get Teeny settled in our room with one of the books she brought home from her school library. It’s been a few days since I’ve done any laundry, and we’re both down to our last clean pair of underwear, so I grab our clothes, a small bottle of detergent, and my journal. Once I hit the steps outside, I hear a faint rumble in the distance and stop. This is a pretty quiet area, and there’s usually no one out this time of night, especially with it so cold out. I start toward the laundry room, and the rumbling gets a little louder. It sounds like a car idling.
I glance around the lot and look for the smoky signs of exhaust fumes hitting cold air. A black Suburban in the far corner of the lot is backed into a spot, and smoke billows up from behind it.
Chills run down my spine and I can’t move. Is someone in the car? I stare at it a few seconds but can’t see past the tinted windows.
I take a deep breath and shake my shoulders. I’m letting Dad’s craziness make me crazy. A ton of people live in these little cottages—it’s not odd that someone is in the parking lot. It’s only nine thirty.
The laundry room is dark, and it takes a minute to find the light switch. I feel better when the room floods with light. I load the machine, and as the wash churns I settle down in one of the chairs with my journal to write about how crappy my life is.
Before long, the buzzer notifies me it’s time to put everything in the dryer. Just as I get comfortable again, I realize some loose change has made it in with the clothes. The rattling is annoying.
And then there’s another noise. It’s a metal sound coming from the window that stays open on the back wall of the laundry room. It’s a grinding sound similar to a set of nails scraping down a chalkboard. And then everything goes dark. I’m frozen in my spot. The clink, clink, clink of the coins slows until it’s completely silent.
I drop the journal and inch my way to the wall switch, flipping it up and down an absurd number of times. Nothing happens.
The only light in the room comes from a floodlight outside the back window. So the power is only out inside this building. Maybe some animal chewed through the wires, or maybe one of the breakers flipped. I strain to hear something, anything, that might help this make sense, but there’s nothing.
Then the grinding sound is back, but this time it’s closer. Louder.
Screw this. I haul ass out of the laundry room and run down the driveway to our little house. One glance at the parking lot before I bust through the door shows that the black Suburban is still there, fumes rising out behind it.
Everything is dark. A light flashes across the room. I can’t get out. The light misses me by a few inches. I crawl on the floor in a haze until I hit something hard, don’t know what it is. The flashing light is gone and the room is pitch-black. Voices, angry voices, but I can’t hear the words. I’m scared and my heart beats so loud I’m afraid they can hear it. I peek to see who is there, but their faces are blurry. And then Laura’s beside me. She doesn’t move. Or talk. Or open her eyes. I shake her hard and then her face changes. It’s Elle on the floor beside me now. I scream for someone to help, but nobody comes. Something breaks, sounds like glass. A huge noise. And then Elle disappears.
I stare at the ceiling and try to catch my breath. There’s something warm next to me, and I look down to find Teeny cuddled up at my side. Her eyes are wide open and staring at me.
I’m soaked in sweat again and know it’s the dream. I put my arm around Teeny. “Did I wake you up?”
“Yeah.” Her voice is soft, scared. “I didn’t know what to do. You were moving around and crying.”
I kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry; it’s over now. You can stay here the rest of the night if you want.”
I feel her head nod, and I pull the covers over us both. I didn’t tell anyone about what happened in the laundry room, and I know thinking about Laura and Elle earlier somehow got them mixed in with my nightmare. It had taken me hours to convince myself that there were a hundred explanations for what happened. Buildings lose power all the time.
“What are you dreaming about that makes you cry?” Teeny asks.
“I don’t know.” It’s hard to think about the dreams after I wake up, much less talk about them, which is why it’s become important for me to write them down. “I think it’s all the moves. And not knowing why all this is happening. It scares me.”
Teeny snuggles in closer. “Yeah, it scares me too.” It takes a few minutes, but Teeny finally falls back to sleep. I reach for the journal and realize I left it in the laundry room.
So stupid! I want to run back there to get it, but I can’t make myself get up. I’m drained from the nightmare and not sure I could face that room again in the dark. It takes some time, but I finally drift off to a dreamless sleep.