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    Ghosting

    Page 5
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      and pull him toward the car.

      C’mon, Maxie, I call. We gotta go. Bye Mom, bye Dad.

      Time to get this

      party started. Time for

      some serious fun.

      MAXIE

      Emma is still Emma,

      only more so.

      More assured,

      more full of life.

      Shinier.

      And, I have this feeling,

      even harder

      to say

      no to.

      FAITH

      I love

      how Polly

      knew Maxie

      right away.

      Dogs are

      amazing.

      And I’m glad

      Maxie has

      moved back.

      Maybe she

      and Emma

      will be

      friends again.

      But probably

      not.

      Emma is on

      her own

      fast track,

      the way

      she’s been

      since

      middle school.

      No patience for

      anyone

      a little

      different.

      Saturday, August 28, 7:00 p.m.

      BRENDAN

      Took the turn onto Elm a little wide.

      A car blares its horn at me.

      Emma shoots me a look. So, yeah,

      I’ve had a few beers already. Big deal.

      No DUI yet and I’ve driven

      hammered plenty of times.

      It’s those Donnelly reflexes,

      the ones my dad takes the credit for.

      “Yeah, that’s my boy, the star athlete,

      just like his old man.”

      Fine, long as it gets me that free ride

      to college somewhere far away.

      Colorado or California,

      that’s where I’d go.

      But of course the old man has

      his sights set on his alma mater.

      “Ivy’s the way to go, boy. You’ll make connections

      there that’ll set you up for life.” Fuck that.

      Want me to drive? Emma asks.

      I’m cool, I say.

      Okay, if you’re sure, Emma says.

      She picks up my iPod, searching for a song.

      I turn the AC a notch higher.

      So, Anil, what’s your dad do? I say, catching his eye in the rearview mirror.

      He and Chloe are in the third row.

      She’s got her hands all over him.

      He’s a doctor, Anil says.

      Anil’s mom is a doctor, too, Chloe pipes up.

      Two doctors in the family,

      must be loaded.

      My little brothers go to your mom, says Chloe.

      They do? Anil says, his voice surprised.

      Yeah, didn’t I tell you?

      Emma makes one of her impatient

      noises, shaking my iPod.

      It keeps freezing, she says.

      Battery’s low, I say.

      Then I catch Anil’s eye again

      in the rearview mirror.

      And he looks so superior,

      I can’t help myself, saying

      Hey, bro, speaking of your mom. She is smoking hot.

      Both his parents came out to say good-bye

      when I picked up Anil and Chloe.

      Shut up, Bren, says Emma.

      What? I say, with innocent eyes. Just sayin’ I could totally do her.

      You’re so gross, Emma says, but not really paying attention.

      She’s finally found the song she was

      looking for and plugs the iPod back in.

      Thought I might get some

      kind of rise from Anil. But no.

      In the rearview mirror I see he’s just staring

      out the window, no expression at all.

      Mr. Poker Face might not be so calm if he knew

      what my dad accidentally left in the glove compartment.

      ANIL

      1. Anger,

      like nothing I’ve felt before,

      courses through me.

      Blood heats my skin,

      and I want nothing more than

      to punch Brendan Donnelly

      in the face.

      I’ve never hit anyone in my life,

      but I know, with a mathematical certainty,

      that if I weren’t pinned back

      in the third row of this SUV,

      I would hit Brendan.

      It’s a physical, palpable thing

      in my gut.

      Chloe leans into me.

      Ignore him, she whispers. He’s a jerk.

      Her breath in my ear distracts me.

      But I can still feel the pulse throbbing in my neck.

      My blood pressure must be sky-high.

      I liked your mom, says Chloe in a soft voice.

      She’s nice.

      2. I think back to their meeting.

      My mom was shy but warm,

      and my dad was easy to read.

      Okay, I see now, his eyes said to me.

      3. My thoughts go back to Brendan,

      what he said.

      Why did I react that way?

      I’ve heard worse in the weight room.

      Jocks mouthing off,

      showing off.

      I should be able to joke back.

      Yeah, bet your mom is hot, too, I should have said.

      Is it the Indian in me?

      My father in me?

      These disrespectful American teenagers.

      But then I get a sudden image

      of Brendan standing beside my mother,

      putting his hands on her,

      and my hands curl into fists again.

      My breath goes short.

      I almost feel like

      I could drive my fists through the

      car window beside me and

      not feel a thing.

      FAITH

      Mom and

      Dad are

      watching a

      movie in

      the family

      room.

      I’m about

      to join

      them,

      bringing

      a plate of

      cookies.

      But just

      before I

      enter,

      before they

      can see me,

      I hear

      Brendan’s

      name.

      I stand

      very still,

      hardly

      breathing

      so I can

      hear them

      over the TV.

      I don’t get why you don’t like him, Dad is saying. Brendan seems like a good kid to me, very polite.

      I don’t know. I guess I think it’s an act, Mom answers. And I’ve heard stuff about his father.

      What kind of stuff?

      That he makes the Great Santini look like a walk in the park, Mom answers.

      I’m dying

      for her to

      go on,

      explain

      what she

      means,

      but Dad

      just gives a

      chuckle,

      like he

      knows.

      Still, that doesn’t make him a bad kid, even if his father is a sonofabitch, he says.

      And then

      the ad that

      was playing

      ends and

      the movie

      they were

      watching

      starts up

      again.

      I’m frozen

      for a

      moment.

      I don’t

      think I’ve

      ever heard

      my dad

      use that

      word before.

      And even

      if I don’t

      know who

      the Great

      Santini is,

      it’s pretty

      clear he’s

      bad news.


      And,

      truth is,

      I don’t

      want to

      feel sorry for

      Brendan

      Donnelly.

      POLICE CHIEF AUBREY DELAFIELD

      Things are starting to get busy.

      As predicted.

      Last night some middle school boys

      rounded up a bunch of stone statues

      from all over Wilmette—

      geese, rabbits, even one of those old-fashioned jockeys—

      and stuck them in the sand at Gillson Park beach.

      Of course the tide came in,

      knocking them down, dragging some of them

      out into the lake.

      Sorting the damn things out,

      wading out to retrieve the ones

      caught out on the first sandbar

      and figuring out which one belonged to which address,

      was a nightmare.

      One lady made a great hue and cry because

      the little Northwestern sweatshirt

      she’d had specially made for her goose

      got washed away by the tide.

      And one garden gnome never did turn up.

      Like I said, it’s going to be a long weekend.

      But if looking for a goose’s sweatshirt is the worst of it,

      I’ll be a happy man.

      MAXIE

      Brendan pulls up

      in front of

      Felix’s house.

      So many memories around that house:

      epic games of freeze tag

      with flashlights.

      eating doughnuts in the big oak tree

      in the backyard.

      his mom making the best grilled cheese sandwiches

      and Campbell’s tomato soup,

      with crumbled-up saltines.

      The house looks

      different somehow

      and at first I can’t put

      my finger on it.

      But then I realize there aren’t

      any lights on

      in the windows.

      Plus the lawn needs

      mowing and tall weeds

      crowd the front bushes.

      It almost looks

      deserted.

      Felix’s house is in

      the part of town where

      the houses are smaller

      and closer together.

      Felix’s parents are young,

      and his dad is

      in the military.

      But his mom always

      used to keep their house

      neat and pretty.

      I heard his mom is working a couple of jobs, says

      Emma, while his dad is in Afghanistan.

      I notice a small orange glow

      near the front door

      and realize someone is

      sitting on the front steps,

      smoking.

      Brendan lowers Emma’s window

      and leans over her.

      Put down the blunt, dude, he yells, and get your butt over here.

      Nice, says Emma. That lady next door probably heard you.

      So what, says Brendan.

      The orange glow gets brighter

      for a second,

      then

      goes out.

      I hop out of

      the car.

      Hey, Felix, I call. Long time no see.

      But he doesn’t bound

      toward me,

      not the way he used to.

      He moves slowly,

      and his big grin is slower, too,

      though it’s just as warm.

      Max, he says, and gives me a loose but lingering hug.

      I can smell the weed on him,

      strong.

      His hair is the same curly mop,

      but he’s gotten

      bigger and taller.

      And something else about him,

      other than the slower speed

      and smell of pot,

      is different.

      I can’t figure out what it is,

      not right away.

      It’s great to see you, he says.

      And he means it,

      I can tell.

      Come on, calls Brendan from inside the car. We’ve got places to go.

      Brendan says we need

      to make a quick

      fueling stop

      before we head

      to the party

      and I think he means

      a gas station,

      but he pulls into

      the parking lot

      by Centennial Park, near the

      kid’s playground.

      Time for some pre-party refreshments, says Brendan.

      The playground is deserted.

      Under the nearly

      full moon

      the swing set and jungle gym

      look like skeletons of

      long-ago

      prehistoric creatures.

      What’ve you got? asks Emma.

      The cooler’s between you two, says Brendan to me and Felix. Pop it open.

      Felix is slow to respond

      so I reach down

      and unlatch the cooler,

      opening the lid.

      Nestled in ice

      are about a

      dozen brightly

      colored cans

      of what looks

      like soda pop.

      Emma peers

      into the cooler.

      Holy shit, where’d you find that stuff?

      Craigslist, says Brendan proudly. Only fifteen bucks a can.

      What is it? I ask, amazed by how expensive those colorful cans are.

      Don’t they have MoonBuzz in Colorado? Brendan says.

      I shake my head.

      Then you are in for a treat, Brendan says with a big grin.

      I heard it was banned in Illinois, comes Chloe’s voice from the back.

      Yep. That’s why it was such a rip-off, says Brendan.

      But believe me, it’s worth it. Cocaine in a can.

      I’ve read about it, comes Anil’s voice from the back. They say drinking one can is the equivalent of five beers and a cup of Starbucks coffee.

      Sweet, says Brendan.

      He grabs one can

      for him and one

      for Emma.

      Help yourselves, he says to the rest of us.

      It sounds

      really

      bad to me.

      But Felix reaches into the cooler,

      fishes out a couple

      and hands them back to

      Chloe and Anil.

      Then he picks out two more,

      and offers one to me

      with a wink.

      I start to say no,

      but then

      catch Emma watching me

      in the rearview mirror.

     


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