Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
JULES ~ SEVENTEEN YEARS EARLIER
IT WAS A TYPICAL TUESDAY morning in Brooklyn at the Easton household as I walked down the stairs. The dog was at my mother’s feet waiting for a treat, and my father was on her other side waiting for a kiss.
I turned my attention toward the television, and the annoying newsman was talking about the election for Mayor.
Boring.
I grabbed the remote and immediately switched the station.
My mother was at the sink rinsing her teacup. My father was sipping his coffee. Almost in unison, they both yelled, “Hey, turn it back.”
I rolled my eyes and nabbed a cereal bowl. “Sorry, I cannot watch another minute of that.”
My father leaned back against the counter. He was in his neatly pressed uniform and highly polished shoes. As a K-9 unit officer in the Explosive Detection Division for the Port Authority, he could be very intimidating, especially when he pointed his finger at me. “That is very important. That is the fate of New York City right there. It might very well change your future, Juliette.”
Just then, his trusted partner, Diogi, rolled over. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Diogi was a golden retriever highly trained in sniffing out explosives, but at home, with us, he was just my dog.
I loved him.
Especially when even he knew what my father was saying was equivalent to, “Blah, blah, blah.”
Grabbing the box of Frosted Flakes and carton of milk, I sat down and flicked through the stations. When I glanced up, there were four narrowed eyes on me, so I gave in and switched the television back to the sleeper news station.
Whatever.
“I might be late tonight. I have a meeting,” my mother told me. “Will you be okay?”
I propped an elbow on the table. “Yes, Mom, I’ll be fine.”
My mother was wearing her very best suit and her pearl earrings rather than her favorite diamond stars. I knew the meeting had to be important. She worked for Silverstone Properties and was hoping to be promoted to senior executive. If that happened, she was going to get an office overlooking both New York Harbor and the Hudson River, and that really excited her.
I guessed it was cool.
“Call me when you get home, so I know you made it safely.”
I shoved a spoonful of cereal in my mouth. “I always do, don’t I?”
My father kissed me on the head. “I’m headed in early. I have rounds to make around the complex before going inside.”
I looked up. “Bye, Dad, see you tonight.”
He snapped the leash onto Diogi’s collar. “Have a good day at school, and don’t forget your lunch again,” he pointed to the counter, “I made it, and that means there’s something delicious inside.”
“Josh Easton,” my mother scolded. “You know she doesn’t need any more sugar. Next thing we know she’ll be running into the walls.”
Okay, so I walked into an open locker yesterday after I bought a brownie for lunch and broke my glasses. It wasn’t like I’d done it before. And it wasn’t like it was the brownie’s fault.
“Rachael Easton, you know a little something sweet never killed anyone.”
“But Josh Easton—”
“Rachael Easton, you know Juliette is perfect just the way she is.”
“Well, you are right about that.”
The whole using full names thing was vomit-inducing enough, but when he patted her on the butt, I thought I might have thrown up a little in my mouth. “Gross!”
They both laughed. “Some day you won’t think so,” my mother said.
“I doubt that.”
“Lunch,” my father pointed, more sternly, and then after kissing my mother, he headed for the back door.
“Bye Diogi,” I called. “Love you, Dad,” I added.
“Love you too,” he said, and then he closed the door.
“You ready to go?” my mother asked.
Grumbling, I got to my feet. “I really hate school this year.
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. I think I’m having a panic attack over gym class today, and maybe I should stay home.”
She jingled her keys. “Good try.”
“Feel my forehead.”
She handed me my lunch. “Let’s go.”
I grabbed my backpack. “Mom, you’re supposed to be worried about my mental state. Suggest I see someone or something like that.”
She shook her head. “Juliette, there is nothing wrong with you, now let’s go.”
Pulling at the sides of my old glasses because this old pair was way too small, I gave her an exasperated sigh and marched out the door.
After she dropped me off, I tried to figure out the best way to change for gym class without anyone seeing me. I was tall and lanky and flat chested, and I knew I was going to be made fun of.
School really did suck.
At eight thirty, the homeroom bell rang. Some of the kids lingered in the hallway, but I was sitting promptly in my assigned seat when the teacher came in. “Good morning class,” he said.
“Good morning,” some of us answered.
“Busy day today,” he remarked.
I started to doodle on my notebook.
There was a crackle overhead and he stopped talking so we could hear the announcements. First, we were given a rundown on school elections. I couldn’t escape politics. Then there was talk about the fall dance and blah, blah, blah.
I doodled a little more. This time I drew a heart and wrote Robbie’s name inside. He was so cute, but he never even looked at me. I quickly scribbled through it.
Math was my first class, and I stayed put. Even though it was only the second week of school, Mr. Gilbert loved to give pop quizzes, and as he handed one out, there was a twinkle in his eye.
I breezed through the quiz and waited for everyone else to finish. When time was up, we exchanged papers to correct them. And then the new lesson started. I took notes and doodled some more.
Time seemed to be dragging until I realized it was past first period and the bell had not rang yet. Everyone else must have realized the same thing because they started to talk over each other.
“Well, class,” Mr. Gilbert boomed, “perhaps the office is still working the kinks out of the new school year. Let’s give it another minute.”
It was less than thirty seconds later when the school principal’s voice came over the loudspeaker, and what he had to say would change my life forever. “Two planes have flown into the World Trade Center.”
Chaos broke out. The students were so loud I couldn’t hear anything else, but I didn’t move as my entire body stiffened.
My mother.
My father.
Diogi.
They were all there, but I knew they had to be okay. Just like I knew they would be coming to get me to assure me of that.
We were told to remain where we were. School would be closing, and parents had been notified.
Mine, too.
Girls were hysterical all around me.
Boys were milling around.
I stayed where I was.
Glued to my seat.
Then, not even an hour later, another announcement came overhead. “The South Tower of the World Center has collapsed.”
Tower Two.
Something started to rise in my gut, but I pushed it down. My mother worked in Tower One, and my father, well he could have very well still been outside.
They were coming to get me.
They’d be here soon.
I couldn’t stop myself from inhaling deeply and quickly.
I couldn’t seem to get enough air.
I waited in my seat while most of the other kids got picked up, and then the principal’s voice came over the loudspeaker again. “The North Tower of the World Trade Center has also collapsed.”
Tower One.
I vomited all over Mr. Gilbert’s floor, and then I raced to the bathroom to splash water on my face.
They were okay.
They were coming for me.
They’d be here soon.
I was feeling light-headed, and the dizziness caused me to sway as I walked down the crowded hall.
Back in the classroom, tears streamed down my face as I waited and waited and waited.
“I called your uncle,” Mr. Gilbert said, placing a hand on my shoulder.
I shivered. I was so cold. “My uncle?”
“He’s on your emergency contact list.”
“But he lives in Atlanta,” I told him, trying to blink the haze away and suddenly feeling so hot.
“I know. He asked me to take you home and find someone to stay with you until he can get here.”
Uncle Edward was my father’s much older brother and ran a wedding business in Atlanta. He came to the city twice a year, but other than that, I really didn’t know much about him.
“My parents will be coming to get me,” I insisted. “And my dog, too.”
“Well, how about we wait at your house?” he asked, and I hated the grim look in his eyes.
“I don’t feel so well,” I told him.
He squeezed my shoulder. “Come on, I’ll get you home.”
I looked around to see an empty room.
Everyone left.
Except me.
Panic struck, or maybe it had long ago.
Is this what a real panic attack was?
I looked at the clock.
Hours had passed.
And still no word from my either my mother or my father.
I was alone.
And I’d be that way for a very long time.