Cornerstone (22 page)

“This isn’t about my father.” my mom says. Her eyes are red with tears, but she keeps her voice steady. “Nalena only went to the Addo for counseling. She’s told me that she’s choosing a simple life.”

“Liar liar…memory on fire!” His laughter spews out of the phone, rough and raw. My head is spinning with his ugly voice. I rub my temple and Garrett reaches for me but I don’t want to be touched. I scoot back and my chair rubs a tiny squeak from the floor. I hear my father gasp on the other end.

“You got me on a goddamn loud speaker?” he shouts. “What the hell kind of game are you playing, Angie? Why do you have to make this thing harder than it already is?”

The words hit me like concrete. I stand and stumble backward, the chair crashing to the floor. My father is still yelling but his voice drains away to static in my ears. Garrett is on his feet, reaching to steady me. His mouth is moving, but I can’t hear him either. The veins in Mr. Reese’s neck are straining as he barks soundlessly into the phone. My mother is staring at me, her skin paler than ashes. Our eyes meet and she asks, with nothing but her wide pupils and the wrinkle between her eyes.

My mouth forms the words, even though I can’t hear my own sound.
I know who he is.

Who?
Her wrinkle deepens.

He’s the man in the woods.

Waxen and colorless, my mother’s face appears dead. Her eyes are open but she has less than no expression, as if her all muscles have fainted.

She casts her eyes away from mine and the sound of the room comes back in a whooshing blast, an explosion sucked into a bottle.

“He’s after me.” I say.

“He’s not in his right mind any longer, Evangeline.” Mrs. Reese says. She leans across the table, placing a sympathetic hand over my mother’s. “Tell her the rest. It’s time.”

“Let’s give them space.” Mr. Reese says. He begins issuing gentle commands to his family. “Garrett, you go get Iris from daycare. Mark and Brandon, one of you needs to keep an eye on the backyard and one on the front. Miranda and Sean, hop on the internet and see what you can find. I’m going to make some calls and spread the word.”

The Reese’s dissipate, like air out of the same bottle that was too full only a moment ago. My mom and I are alone in the empty dining room. She stands and comes to me, taking the seat that Garrett leaves.

I’m on overload to the point where my mind is going numb. I want my mother and I to travel back in time two weeks, safely situated in our old life. I would happily return to the piles of paper, the ostracization at school and only the vague understanding that I have a father. As I’m wishing it, my mom speaks.

“I’ve told you your father was Alo, Nalena, but that’s only partly true.” her voice quivers. Her back is so rigid in the chair, I am having a hard time focusing on anything she’s saying. “He
was
Alo. He turned away from it. He chose instead to live a selfish life.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted me to choose?” I ask. How can she want me to choose it, when she makes it sound like a terrible choice that my father has made? I am hollow. I don’t know how to care anymore. She twists her ring finger so hard that her knuckle seems to twist out of place.

My mom’s eyes fill and tears separate her features in streams.

“No. I want a
Simple
life for you. A selfish life is something else entirely. It’s a slippery path. Your father found it while I was still pregnant with you.” Her eyes are far away, remembering. She returns to the conversation with a sad grin. “Your dad was a man that was easy to like. It’s so hard to see what’s important when you’re young. He told the funniest jokes and everyone seemed to get along with Roger. Your grandpa, my father, used to call your dad ‘A Good Time Charlie’. Wherever we went, everyone knew Roger and I thought it meant that he would be a good person for me. We weren’t married long and he began associating with the wrong people. He began living only for himself. He turned away from his responsibilities as one of the Alo. He stopped recording memories even though we were still living off our community. He wanted a change, a drastic one, and he insisted I go along with him since I was his wife.

“But I wouldn’t do it.” She sniffs and wipes her nose on the back of her hand. “And he wouldn’t leave the community without me…because of you.” Her grin is miserable. “Roger wanted everyone to see him as the perfect father. He was so concerned with what people thought of him
.
But the Ianua’s enemies, a community called The Fury, they have a knack for convincing people that ‘perfect’ is attainable. That’s how your father got sucked in. He believed that there was something out there he didn’t already have.”

“But I refused to follow him into a life with The Fury. I knew what it meant. The Fury doesn’t value marriage or family or relationships. They don’t have commitments to anyone or anything. Each individual lives entirely for themselves and over time, they go insane with it. I couldn’t even be sure that Roger wouldn’t abandon you at some point, when his lifestyle permeated him completely.

“It finally came to an impass. He wouldn’t turn back and I wouldn’t turn away. I suggested we live apart. The second it was out of my mouth, he became vicious. He wrapped his hands around my neck and told me he’d kill me first. Kill me, and cut you out of my stomach, before he would ever allow me to divorce him.”

Tears break off in veins down her cheeks. I take a shaky breath, my face wet too. She wipes her cheeks with her fingers and then rubs her neck as she continues.

“Your grandfather knew what was happening all along. He was my best friend. So, when your dad went out one night, I took my chance and I ran. Grandpa gave me the money to hide. I took it and I hid the two of us.”

Her face crumples. Her weeping comes harder, as if each sob is ripped from her chest. It panics me. She folds her hands over herself, locking herself in her own embrace.

“I had no idea what he would do...I had no idea.” She rocks on the chair, sobbing so loosely that I am unhinged. I need her to hold me and say this will be okay. I put my hands out to her, but her eyes are terrified and distant. I can’t seem to reach wherever she is.

“He killed him...” she moans. “For helping me. He killed my father! I didn’t see it on TV or hear it from the police. I knew it because I was supposed to write him! I was at the kitchen table and you were kicking inside me and the sunshine was coming through the window warming my arms and then...his name was in my head! I was sure there was something wrong with me. I tried to convince myself that I was just thinking of him, the way people think of anyone...not the way the Alo think of memories.

“For three hours I thought your grandfather’s name and couldn’t write it because I couldn’t let them die! And he knew it.” she growls. “Roger knew how I would find out what he’d done! And then when I did try to write your grandfather’s memory, I couldn’t write any more than his name. His memory was stolen from me. Roger wrote it and hid it away so my father’s knowledge would be lost forever. It was Roger’s vengeance for me leaving him!”

I am suddenly alone, in darkness, floating in my mother’s grief.

I am connected to it.

The descendant.

Of this.

Murder.

This murderer.

I can’t swallow. Tears stream out of me. My mom pulls me back from the darkness and into the room, her arms looping around me. The dining room lights are too bright. We sob together, convulsing in each other’s arms.

It’s always been us.

Just us.

My mom rubs my back like she used to, when I was little. The slobs slow to sniffles.

“He trying to kill me now, isn’t he?” My voice is rough and waterlogged.

My mom pulls in a deep, shaky breath.

“Over my dead body.” Her words are vicious and sure. A blazing island, away from the sorrow. “He will
never
get near you again.”

“But he already has.” I lift my cast and her arms fall away. “And I told the Addo I chose a Simple Life. I told him already. Maybe it isn’t the right thing to do.”

“Wait a minute. You already told the Addo your choice?” she asks, confused. I nod.

“Today. I told him right away that I wanted a Simple Life.”

“What did he say? Didn’t he give you anything? A stone?”

“Stone?” I ask. “No, I drank tea. And he told me to come back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Her voice is distant, worried.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know.” she says. “But if you are going back, you haven’t chosen yet.”

“But I did, I swear! You can ask Garrett!” I insist.

“Shh, shhh, shhh.” my mom comforts me. “I believe you. But something isn’t right.”

It feels like only seconds, although a half hour has passed by the time Iris stomps in the door with Garrett behind her. She trails a long white sheet of paper on the floor, slathered with oozy yellow finger paint. Mrs. Reese comes from upstairs, shaking her head at my mom to indicate that the internet didn’t reveal anything useful.

“It’s Addo’s house.” Iris holds up her runny picture.

“Beautiful.” Mrs. Reese tells her, clipping it to the fridge. Mr. Reese comes down from his bedroom.

“VanWeider will excuse Nalena’s absence.” Mr. Reese announces. “But, if she doesn’t take her final exams, her grades will be averaged as they stand.”

“There’s a bigger problem, Basil.” my mom says. “Nalena said she already told the Addo that she chose the Simple Life. She said he didn’t honor it.”

“No, he didn’t.” Garrett says, leaning on the kitchen counter. He pulls his hair back from his temples, holds it for a moment, and then lets it fall back to its regular style. “Probably because she didn’t want to listen to the options.”

It feels like a slam.

“Wait a minute.” I turn on Garrett. “You said you never discussed any options with him when you were counseled either.”

“At least I would’ve listened if he’d offered.”

I narrow my eyes. “I would’ve too.”

“Enough.” Mr. Reese says. “I’m sure the Addo has his reasons. I guess we’ll know more once you meet with him tomorrow.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Fat lot of good being Contego did me anyway.” I grumble. Sean nudges me with his elbow.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“When my mom and I were up in Iris’s room, we heard someone coming in the door and we were flipping out. The spinning happened and my bubble surrounded me, but I couldn’t get it around my mom.”

“That’s normal.” Mr. Reese says. “The protection only makes you a stronger
protector.
It isn’t a magical shield that you can throw in front of anyone else. It may not even protect you, if you don’t know how to use it. However, once you’ve been Impressioned, we can teach you how to maximize your abilities to protect others.”

“Exactly.” Mrs. Reese adds, turning to my mom. “You know, Evangeline, whatever Nalena chooses, she should at least learn to protect herself. Especially after what happened tonight.”

My mother’s face is grim. She eyes my cast.

“I agree.” she nods stiffly. “The sooner the better.”

“After dinner, then.” Mr. Reese says. No one bothers to ask what I think. I could care less about defending myself, but I’m glad no one asks what I’m thinking as I watch my mom from across the table. She’s got dark rings under her eyes. I don’t think it is just the late nights of writing that are doing that. I can’t stop thinking of how I can keep her safe if I am Impressioned.

~ * * * ~

“You need to eat something, sometime.” Garrett tells me after dinner, as I carry my full dish to the sink.

“He’s right you know.” Sean says, but when I frown at him, he still dumps my food down the garbage disposal.

“Thanks for the tip.” I grumble. My stomach is filled to overflowing with murder and Garrett’s remarks, useless signs and useless bubbles. There’s not really room for anything else to digest.

“Put on your shoes, Nalena.” Mr. Reese says. “We’ll clean up later. Let’s show you how to use your field while we still have some light.”

Everyone, even Iris, puts on their shoes and we all tromp out in the Reese’s backyard. I don’t want an audience, but I’m too tired of it all to do anything but follow everyone toward the gazebo. My mom, Sean, and Mrs. Reese take a seat on the wood benches inside, while Iris lingers at the steps.

“Ok, first things first.” Mr. Reese says. “What you need to know is that your abilities run on faith.”

“They’re hotwired to it.” Mark says.

“However you want to put it.” Mr. Reese agrees. “The first step in protecting yourself is to let your body do what it needs to do. Like this.”

In a fluid, lightening fast movement, he pulls a ring of keys from his pocket and hurls them at my head. I see it coming, feel the bubble blow out around me, and watch my own hand reach up and snatch the jingling ring from the air.