Crow Hop: Lifting one or both feet from the board before jumping on a backward or inward take-off.
THERE’S THIS awkward moment in the Blue Belle parking lot where everyone stands around, wondering who’s going to break off for the night first. Chip checks his phone and a huge grin breaks across his face. “Yes. I’m back in with Amy. Guess I’ll see you jerkwads later.” He gives me a bro hug, then grins at Iris. “Maybe we can get a do-over-double-date sometime. I’ll talk to Amy.” Chip throws Rocco an upward nod. “I’d say break a leg, man, but—yanno.” Then he punches Miles lightly on the arm. “I’ll definitely see your punk-ass tomorrow. Try to remember you’re one of us. When it comes to the team, water is thicker than blood.”
Chip struts to his car, giving us a final wave. His glorified I’m-gonna-get-laid swagger is legendary in our circle. Today, he’s probably right.
Rocco says, “Guess I’ll catch up with you tomorrow night. May the best team win and all that jive.”
“In that case, let me offer you my condolences in advance?”
Rocco’s laugh is a loud, put-on guffaw. “Don’t be so quick to jump the gun, Big Mack. I’m packing something special to go.” He points both hands at Iris. “See you there?”
“Definitely. I’m looking forward to seeing all of you dive.” She tries to make eye contact with Miles, but he scowls and looks away.
Rocco grabs his cousin by the scruff of the neck. “Come on, cuz. I think we need to have a little talk.”
I wave to him with the folder he gave me as he drags Miles away.
“What’s that?” Iris asks, pointing at the folder.
“Rocco brought it for me. I think it’s my mom’s school records, but I haven’t opened it yet.”
“What are you waiting for?”
“Everyone else to leave.”
“Me too, actually.”
I let the cover fall open and we see a note from Rocco that reads: Sorry. It’s the best I could do. My mom’s transcripts are inside, but all the information I need—guardians’ names, address, phone number—has been crossed out in black Sharpie.
“Fuck.” I scan the parking lot, hoping to catch Rocco before he leaves and see him pulling onto Main Street in his mom’s Prius.
“Why is everything redacted?” Iris asks.
“That’s a great question.” I give her an abbreviated version of what happened at Andover, including the deal I made with Rocco. “But maybe they do that for all past students to protect their information?”
Iris takes the top sheet from the folder and smells it.
“What are you doing?”
“Seeing if it smells like fresh marker. It doesn’t.”
“It doesn’t make sense for Rocco to do this,” I tell her. “It has to be a policy. Do you have to get home or can you go someplace and talk about what happened at Green Hill?”
“I’d love to, but my dad is on his way to pick me up. He’s being abnormally clingy.”
“Does he know you’re with me right now?”
“No. And I’m super sorry about not texting you back. My dad took my phone.”
“Because of me?”
“It doesn’t matter, Theo. But I need to tell you something before he shows up. I wasn’t late getting to the diner because I was waiting for a ride. I was late because I was searching the archives at school. The article about your mom was signed out by Les weeks ago.”
My nostrils flare reflexively.
“Hold on.” Iris touches my arm. “That’s not all. I searched printed and microfiche looking for a follow-up article. But there weren’t any. High school journalists aren’t great at sequels. There’s too much turnover. But I did find an article about Luanne Cole.”
“Let me guess. Luanne Cole had to flee from New Orleans after being arrested for drugging kids under her care?”
“Worse. The Luanne Cole that was standing next to your mom in the photo died when she was sixteen.”
“That’s impossible. We just saw her at Green Hill.”
“I think we met Lianne Cole. Both girls were divers for E.H.H.S.” Iris continues explaining as she reaches into her bag and hands me a printout of an article. “Luanne Cole stepped on a wasp nest in her backyard and was stung to death when she was sixteen. Her twin sister Lianne Cole was also a springboard diver and listed as one of the grieving family members.”
My arms and legs fill with pins and needles until they’re uncomfortably numb. “It’s even stranger than just that, Iris. I think my mom predicted that girl’s death before it happened. My grandfather told me the same story last night. I guess my mom had the ability to see things before they happened. Sort of like you and your mom, but without the cards. Maybe the same way I saw the girl on the cliffs with dark hair and tattoos before I met you.”
“You think that girl and I are the same person, like you saw me jump before you ever met me?”
“It sounds crazy when I say it out loud.”
“No, it doesn’t, Theo. Not to me.”
* * *
I FIND GP walking out of his office with Curtis and I blow right past them to take a peek inside without explanation. Before they close and lock the door. I’m not sure what I’m expecting to find but there’s nothing extraordinary inside. Same heavy desk, a few dirty dishes, a couple of easy chairs, but not a single model airplane in sight.
GP straightens up like everything is normal but his face is ashen, punctuated by dark purple crescents under each eye that give me pause.
“Are you feeling okay?” I ask, dropping my own agenda. “You look terrible.”
“Chemo has that effect on a person. Not that you’ve been looking so hot yourself lately.”
Chemo?
It takes a minute for that word to sink in.
“You’re sick?”
“You spend your whole life fighting fires and in the end you find out those fires kept fighting back long after they got put out,” GP says. “Ain’t that right, Curtis?”
“Karma truly is a bitch,” Curtis says.
A sense of vertigo hits me so fast I could swear the floor just dropped out beneath my feet. The way he’s been coughing, but not blowing his nose. Jeezus. It’s in his lungs. I can’t believe I didn’t see. He’s all I’ve got left.
“How bad is it?” I direct the question at Curtis.
“Not as good as we hoped.”
“That’s the appointment you didn’t want to tell me about?”
GP doesn’t answer as he takes a seat in his favorite armchair. He looks out the window, away from me, and my eyes start to sting. I wipe a hand under my nose and try to keep it together.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I just did.”
“Before. When I asked if you were sick. I could have done something. Been home more.”
“He didn’t want that for you,” Curtis says. “I’ve been looking out for him. And you. Especially when he has to hole up in his office after treatments and can’t leave the house. But the chemo is starting to take its toll on him. It was time for you to know.”
“Is that why the office is always locked? I assumed you just went in there to pay bills and drink.”
“I did a little of that too,” he says. “Gotta keep a balance between the truth and lies.”
“Cancer is a big fucking lie to keep.”
“Look who’s talkin’. You want to tell me how long you been takin’ pills from Phil Maddox?”
Curtis tosses my prescription bottle at me without warning and it bangs against my chest like a maraca.
Shit.
I sit on the couch and drop the truth. “Since Dad died. Uncle … I mean, Phil’s been refilling the Adderall prescription Dad gave me. I go to see him a couple of times a month and we talk about my issues with focusing at school and diving. But I’ve only been to Green Hill once since Mom died.”
“What the hell were you doing there?” GP coughs in a croupy series that makes me cringe.
“He asked me to come in for blood work so he could check for adverse effects on my liver. I didn’t go alone. Iris Fiorello came with me.”
“That explains the angry voicemail I got from Bert,” Curtis says solemnly.
“Your liver ain’t the thing that needs watchin’, kid. It’s your head. Didn’t you read the article you showed me?”
“They’re just Adderall. Same as Dad prescribed, just a little stronger now that I’m older.”
“Just Adderall just got opened up for debate.”
GP flips Curtis a wary, conspiratorial look.
“I’m already on it,” Curtis says.
“On what? You’re being ridiculous. I need those to focus. Don’t you think I’d be able to tell if they were different?”
GP takes the prescription bottle out of my hand. “That’s the question you should have been asking when you told me you’ve been seeing things. And seeing as you’re still a minor, taking prescription drugs ain’t really up to you. Or him, since I’m the one who’s your guardian.”
“Come on,” I moan. “I have a meet coming up.”
“Then I suggest you take up meditating. ’Cause you ain’t allowed to go back up on that hill. Understand?”
“If I didn’t go to Green Hill I would have never found out about Luanne Cole.”
“We know she was the paramedic working that night,” GP says. “Curtis told me right before you came home.”
“Did he also tell you Luanne Cole is dead?” GP looks at me like I’m nuts until I hand over the article Iris pulled from the E.H.H.S. archives. “We think her twin sister, Lianne, is working as a nurse at Green Hill posing as Luanne. We just don’t know why. But, do you think Luanne could be the same girl Mom told you about in that story?”
“Christ almighty,” GP says slowly, skimming the article before handing it to Curtis. “You think Mitch was actually onto something?”
“Onto what?” I ask.
“Kinda makes you feel bad for blowing him off, huh?” Curtis says.
“I was tryin’ to help him move on.”
“Onto what?” I ask more forcefully.
GP sighs. “I think your father may have been looking into the Cole girl after your mother died. Said he thought there was something fishy going on with her and Phil. He became obsessed with everyone who worked the night of the fire.”
“Fishy like injecting me with something that made me sleepy? I remember Uncle Phil telling her to do it, like he was angry.”
Curtis and GP turn their heads to look at each other in slo-mo.
“I felt a sharp pinch right here.” I point to my deltoid. “It was her, Lu … Lianne Cole. I remembered while I was at Green Hill. How I felt myself slipping out of consciousness. Dad had to lift me up. Next thing I knew I was waking up in a hotel and both Mom and our house were gone.”
“Theo,” Curtis says quietly, “your dad wasn’t there during the fire.”
“Sure he was. I remember him carrying me away.”
“That was Phil.”
“Your mother wouldn’t leave the house without you. That’s what he told me, at least. So your dad got a hotel room. He found out about the fire after we got there.” GP whips a flinty look at Curtis. “Can you pull the files for that fire from the station?”
“Yep. And I’ll pull the boxes Mitch left behind in storage,” Curtis says. “I’m with you.”
“So that’s not something a paramedic would do then?”
“Not usually.”
I lean forward. “When I was at Green Hill she was acting nervous while she drew my blood. Afterward, I overheard her talking to he-ain’t-your-goddamn-Uncle-Phil, telling him she thought I recognized her from the night of the fire.”
GP raises an eyebrow. “Did you say or do anything that might have raised that suspicion?”
“I asked her to get me a purple juice box because that’s what she gave me that night. I was testing her to see if she was the same person.”
“That might explain why Phil Maddox showed up at our house.” GP rubs his balding head.
Balding because of the chemo.
“We need to look through Mitch’s things and play it cool. If he thinks we’re suspicious of him for any reason—” Curtis cuts himself off. “You realize what he’s capable of?” he asks GP with thirty-plus years of friendship coloring his worry.
“I know better than anyone,” GP says. “But he’s messed with this family for the last time. We need to make this right. For Theo and for Mitch.”
“Make what right? What’s he capable of?”
My grandfather swipes a hand over his mouth and sighs. “Arson, for one.”
The skin all over my body feels like it might shed and leave me raw, exposed, because this is where I’m supposed to tell GP the truth. I started the fire. But I can’t find the words or the sack to ’fess up.
“What are we trying to make right?” I ask, swallowing hard.
“I’m not a hundred percent sure so I don’t want to say just yet, but your father was looking into a bunch of stuff trying to figure out why your mother…” He stops and looks at me cautiously. “Why Sophia wanted to leave him for Phil after all these years. He wanted to show her Phil wasn’t quite the man she thought. And it looks like he may have been right. Maybe he even got more than he bargained for, kid. That’s something we may never know. But the truth always comes out. Even when it takes longer than expected.”
“I already figured out something was going on between Mom and Phil.”
All three of us go hush quiet for a minute.
“None of us are perfect, kid,” GP says. “But your mother was a good person. I don’t want you thinking poorly of her.”
“I don’t. She’s not the one I blame.”
“Now you’re seeing things like a Mackey.” He looks at Curtis. “It’s risky. But I could go talk to Phil. Tell him I heard he stopped by the house. Do you know if he’s coming to your meet tomorrow?”
“He said he was.”
“If I can catch him alone in the parking lot before—”
“Alone?” Curtis interjects, sounding worried GP is diving into something that requires a spotter.
GP ignores him and turns to me. “I never missed one of your meets before, but if I skip this one, it’ll give Curtis and me a chance to put together some old documents of your father’s we put in storage. But if anything should happen to me between now and then, I want you to call Curtis right away. You understand me? He’s the only person I trust with my life. And yours.”
“If anything happens? You mean if you die, from the cancer?”
“It ain’t the goddamn cancer I’m worried about. It’s Phil’s compromised morals. Promise me you’ll call Curtis.”
“I promise.”
“I don’t like this,” Curtis says.
Neither do I. “Maybe I should go with you,” I tell GP.
“No. You gotta go to that meet of yours tomorrow like normal so Phil sees you there, then come home. If any of the conspiracy theories your father was spewing are true, you might get what you need for your family history project and more. You have to trust me on that.”
And I do. Suddenly, I trust him more than anyone. All the way to my core.