He was right. Did I think it would be so simple? I’d walk in, talk to him, but what if I needed to be seen more?
I could spend the weekend there, if needed. That wouldn’t be too bad if they were there with me anyway. “Don’t let anyone go up there unless you’re sure it’s safe,” I said. “Don’t let them get caught.”
He nodded sharply.
That was it. Decision made. Despite heading back, I wouldn’t be alone.
I was never alone.
I left them and crossed the bridge, still feeling their warm touch in my palms and at my shoulders, and I tried to keep that memory with me. I ducked my head and kept going.
When I was halfway across the yard, I heard a short whistle. I panicked, worried someone inside would hear, and I stopped, turning back.
Kota had stepped into view, waving to me.
I started to turn back. Was something wrong? I stood in the yard, puzzled, trying to figure out if he was telling me to hurry up for some reason, or to go back. With the way he was waving to me, I couldn’t figure out his meaning.
“Sang!” Marie’s voice came at me like a punch in the back. I spun around again, hoping Kota would retreat and let me handle this. I wasn’t sure if seeing him would spur her to say something to our father.
Marie was at the edge of the wide driveway, her arms crossed over her chest. She was barefoot, wearing jeans and a sweater. Her eyes were wide, her straight brown hair in a ponytail. She motioned for me to hurry. “Come quick.”
I started slowly toward her, looking over my shoulder once.
Kota had disappeared again out of sight.
Was that what Kota had been warning me about? That Marie was outside?
I hurried to her. It was too late to turn back now.
I was back.
Three Plus Two Makes Cataclysm
––––––––
Marie waited in the driveway while I charged through the yard toward her. Her hair was frizzy around her face, and she brushed the strands out of her eyes and back behind her ear. She shook her head, making a displeased frown. “You won’t believe this,” she said, grumbling. “I just can’t believe it.”
“What?” I said, wanting to ask her more, but I stopped, distracted by the car parked in the drive just outside the garage.
My father’s car. I’d expected it, but then something struck me hard at seeing it in that particular spot.
It wasn’t in the garage.
I glanced up the road, looking out for mysterious cars around that could belong to Mr. Hendricks or someone who worked for him. Had anyone seen him drive in?
Had anything happened within view of the road that I should worry about?
“Come see,” Marie said, interrupting my scan of the street. She padded into the garage.
I trailed behind, coming around the edge of the house.
A minivan was parked in one of the garage spaces, luggage strapped to the top of it. The second parking spot in the garage was taken up by cardboard boxes stacked neatly in rows.
The minivan had a North Carolina license plate.
“Who...” I started to say, the questions falling from my lips the moment I thought of them. I couldn’t get a full phrase out after that.
Panic claimed me. Deep down in my bones, I was shaking.
That had to be what Kota was trying to warn me about. Could it be social services?
If that was the case, why was the plate from North Carolina? And what were the boxes for? Were they packing up what little I had and moving me out?
Was that why he’d demanded I come back? Because the police had demanded it?
Did they drive minivans?
Marie walked past it all and went directly for a short flight of steps that led up to the side door. She put her hand on the handle, and then waited for me.
I eased myself around the minivan, and as I got closer, I heard a deep humming coming from inside the house.
A vacuum.
Our father never did housework. Not that I’d ever seen him. We usually did it.
Now everything made even less sense. He had been making the bed. I didn’t know much about social services, or the police, but if they’d discovered my existence and had come to take me, he wouldn’t be vacuuming the house.
Would he?
I stalled just before taking that first step on the stairs. After a week of camp, and with my issues with the guys, I wasn’t sure I could handle this new problem.
This wasn’t what we’d expected.
This shook the plan I’d had right out of my brain.
Marie’s wide, terrified brown eyes told me she wasn’t about to enter without me. It was like when we were kids, and we’d gotten into trouble for leaving toys out, or playing out in the yard after dark.
Marie never faced the music alone. We went together, usually so she could point a finger of blame at me.
I was used to it.
I could leave when I wanted. Kota was so close. He’d agree I could.
If I really needed him to, he’d help me escape.
Those thoughts gave me the courage to follow Marie inside.
I was her shadow now. She was a little taller than me, and I could almost hide behind her.
Once we were around the door and could shut it, I stopped, staring around Marie’s arm in disbelief.
A woman with fluffy curls of auburn hair held a vacuum in her hand. She ran it over and over along the carpet, making perfect W shapes as she went along, but then did it again in the same spot, as if she couldn’t get the carpet clean enough. Our orange couch was gone, replaced by a red one, or so I thought until I realized it was the same shape and it might have a cover.
She continued to vacuum with us standing behind her. I was too afraid to speak to let her know we were here, and Marie didn’t say anything.
Studying the woman, it was clear her hair was dyed, too vibrant and unusual to be a real color. It was layered, with some curls along the edges, and brushed straight at her crown. It was old-fashioned—like I’d seen in pictures of girls from the sixties. She was stout, with wide shoulders. Her legs and arms seemed lean; it was her torso that was her weight. She wore floral-printed pants, and her silky black shirt billowed around her, hanging down to midthigh.
I folded my arms over my stomach, nervously rubbing my fingers together, feeling the sweatshirt between my fingers as I clutched the material. I felt oddly underdressed.
The woman turned, caught sight of us and shut off the vacuum with a quick snap of the button. She examined us head to toe, looking quickly at Marie and then taking a deeper, more quizzical look at me.
She released the vacuum to take a few steps toward us. “Is this her?” she asked Marie.
Marie nodded and motioned to me with a wave. “This is Sang.”
I bit my lip and hid my hands behind my back. “H...hello?” I said, questions zipping through my brain, fizzling before I could find the nerve to speak.
She narrowed her eyes as she studied me. “You’re a mess,” she said. “You were at camp?”
A mess? I glanced down, wondering if she meant the shorts. I’d taken a bath at Victor’s house. Was my hair looking awful? “Yes, camp,” I mumbled softly and then hesitated before giving any more information. I wasn’t a great liar, so I wanted to be cautious about saying any more than necessary.