Chapter 68
CHAPTER
CHARLEY
Over the past fifteen days, I’d seen a neurologist, a psychiatrist, and a famous psychologist who specializes in victims of violent trauma.
She’d actually made a house call after reading about me in the newspapers.
Apparently it’s not every day that a seventeen-year-old American from a middle-class family, on track for a volleyball scholarship and with no record of crazy behavior, disappears for months, only to be found naked in a foreign country.
I really needed to pay more attention to the news.
But that would have meant getting my hopes up, something I could no longer handle.
I’d stopped my dates with Firefox, refusing to scour news sites for an article I’d never find.
I also refused to see any more counselors.
They’d all come to the same conclusion: whatever had happened to me was so traumatic that, as a protective measure, my mind had walled off all memories of the incident.
But I did remember. And as painful as the memories were, I’d rather die than forget.
The only effort I made was to go running.
It made my parents happy that I actually left my room, not to mention my bed.
I’d run for hours, reveling in my memories.
Thad running beside me, his hand wrapped around mine …
Thad placing a lei around my neck, his sapphire eyes burning …
Thad’s lips on mine, warm and sweet, hungry and wanting.
I sifted through each moment one at a time, reveling in the joy and pain of it.
I’d run until the fog of physical exhaustion settled over my brain.
This morning I’d run sixteen miles, and I only came home because the drizzle became a torrent.
I’d forgotten what it was like to get caught in the rain.
Then, feeling bold, I’d tagged along with Em when she went to the grocery store.
Waiting to check out, I’d spied a wall of photocopied images, grainy black-and-white photos of missing kids, mostly teenagers.
Lured by the faces, I’d wandered over to the bulletin board and studied the pictures.
Some were girls, some were boys, most had bright smiles, all had their dates of birth printed in black ink.
All were missing. Maybe they were on Nil; maybe they’d met an end worse than Nil.
At some point, I started crying. Em had to drag me away, and drag me home.
That was two hours ago.
No longer crying, I sat by my window, watching the rain.
Silver drops speckled the window, each one a dazzling prism attacking the glass. I watched them glisten and fall, like if all the drops could run together they’d form a gate—a shimmering wall taking me back to Nil. But one by one, each drop slid down my window, out of sight, gone forever. Like Nil.
For one perfectly uninterrupted moment, I stared at the rain, aching for Thad, aching for the chance to go back and find him.
But even if I could find a gate in the great haystack that was Earth, it wouldn’t matter.
Thad wouldn’t be there, and Nil would be nothing without him.
My world was here. A world full of silver and gray—and rain.
Thunder rumbled, abrupt and startling. It sounded like a quake.
Lightning flashed as a quick double knock rattled my door. My door opened, and my dad poked his head through the crack. “Hey, honey. Can we come in?”
“Sure.”
My dad set a cup on the bedside table while my mom sat on my bed’s edge. “I brought you a Sprite. A Big Gulp, with that crushed ice you like.”
“Thanks.” I managed a smile.
“It’s good to see you smile, shug.” He sat on the edge of my bed, looking as lost as my mom. “Charley, hon, I can’t imagine how you survived what you did. But you’re strong. You always have been. You’ll get through this, love. I promise.”
A promise means nothing, I thought. It’s a statement of present want, not future reality.
My dad kept talking.
“Your mama and I are behind you, one hundred and ten percent. We checked with the school, and with all your fancy AP credits, you’ve got college credit. You can take next semester off if you want. Graduate early or get your GED. Travel, or not. Whatever you want.”
I want Thad.
He patted my leg. “Think about it, hon. Think about what you want. If we can make it happen, we will.”
“You don’t have to tell us today,” my mom said soothingly. “Take it slow,” she said, repeating the last counselor’s mantra. “There’s no rush. You have plenty of time.”
Plenty of time.
My mom’s unfortunate choice of words hurt me like few phrases could, and the pain pushed me to act. I took a breath, picturing my sweet Thad smiling at me, and looked at my parents.
“There is something I want,” I said, proud I was able to speak without tears. No regrets. With Thad’s voice echoing in my head, I laid out my plan.
Five minutes later, my mom stared at me like I’d just told her I wanted to get a full-body tattoo.
“The University of Washington,” my mom repeated. “You want to play volleyball at the University of Washington. In Seattle.”
“Seattle.” I nodded. “UW. The home of the Huskies.”
My mom glanced at my window, and visibly brightened.
“Honey,” she said, employing her let’s-be-reasonable-I-know-what’s-best-for-you tone, “let’s think this through.
It rains all the time in Seattle. And when it’s not raining, it’s overcast. People go crazy because they don’t see the sun.
” She smiled at me, confident she had a winning argument.
“Think about it. Charley, you love the sun.”
I just looked at her.
“Charley?” She frowned. “Let’s think this through.”
“I have,” I said softly. No sun, no shimmers. And no pretending.
My mom shot my dad a pleading look.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, love, Seattle’s just so far. What happened to good old UGA? Great college town, Saturday football games. You could room with Em again. And, shug”—now he grinned—“you know the sun always shines on Bulldog country.”
“It sure does, Dad.” A girl disappeared in west Athens last month. All they found were her clothes. I loved my dad fiercely, but my mind was set. “Seattle,” I said gently. My voice didn’t waver. “I want to go to Seattle.”
“Seattle!” My mom’s voice rose to a desperate wail. “That’s practically in Canada!”
Exactly.
Dad winked at me, mouthed I love you, then gently guided a still-protesting Mom out of the room. I could hear her sputtering all the way down the hallway. “Seattle! My baby, in Seattle!”
Seconds behind Dad, Em breezed through the doorway, wearing faded jeans and a university-grown confidence that both fit her to a T.
“Guess who’s back?” she asked, beaming.
For a minute I thought Em meant me. Then Jen popped into the room. Her dark hair was chopped in an edgy pixie cut; it oozed Italian style.
“Charley!” Jen hugged me like a long-lost friend, which I was. She started crying, and squeezed me tighter.
In the background, Mom’s wails rose to a crazy pitch, breaking the moment.
“Wow,” Jen said, wiping her eyes. “Your mom’s totally freaking out.”
“Three thousand miles is a long way away,” I said.
“She’ll come around,” Em said. “She just needs some time to adjust. The thing is”—now her voice cracked—“we just got you back.”
Emotion welled, but I didn’t cry. Because I didn’t feel like I was back. I felt trapped in an unnamed place, caught somewhere between Nil and here, and I hadn’t figured out yet how to pull myself out.
Jen squeezed my hand, and just like old times, the three of us sat on my bed. Em took my other hand, her fingers wrapping around mine.
“Charley.” Her voice was tentative. “Do you remember anything yet? It’s okay if you don’t. It’s just—you were gone so long…”
Em’s eyes begged for understanding. I looked away, knowing Jen’s face reflected more of the same: curiosity, worry, fear, hope. It was their hope that hurt the most, because I knew that to lose it was final, and devastating.
I took a steadying breath.
“There was a boy,” I said quietly. “He saved me.” I paused, fighting the emptiness inside. “His name was Thad.”
It was the first time I’d spoken Thad’s name aloud in days.
“And?” Jen said. “What happened?”
No more words would come; they were stuck, in that lonely in-between place. Maybe one day I’d tell Em and Jen the whole story, but not now, not yet. Not until I’d processed it all myself. Right now I needed the one thing this world offered that Nil hadn’t—time.
I knew it was irrational, but one reason I wasn’t ready to tell my story was that I wasn’t ready to admit that it was fully written. That the end—Thad’s end—was final. My heart simply refused to accept it.
Watching Jen’s hopeful face, I slowly shook my head. Not yet, I thought. Not yet.