Well, at least Merry would get the chance to find out tonight, literally first-hand. When she went to the sleepover, if Miss Richelle Rich said anything weird, or displayed a bunch of rings, Merry would just. . .have to find a way to stop her and make sure she got found out. There.
Someone wheeled a gurney into the room.
“No WAY!” Meredith said. “You heard my sister. I have a fainting disorder. We both do. I really am bulimic, anorexic, and neurotic! And psychotic! I need to have my father check me into a psychiatric hospital!”
“Really?” Crystal asked, almost climbing up the traction ropes to get a view. “You really are all those things? I know that Danielle’s younger sister tried to be bulimic but it made her sick.”
Crystal is such a genius,
Merry thought; sometimes, Mallory was right about her friends.
“You’re not going anywhere. You’re Campbell’s daughter, and you did this last spring,” said a young guy who then identified himself as a medical student. “If we let you walk out of here, we might as well break our knees. She’s down there in the ER waiting for you.”
“No, no, no! I didn’t do this last spring. That was my sister. We’re twins,” Merry pleaded. This day was morphing from fairly okay to epic-movie bad.
“We’re having a brain panel done, Meredith Arness Brynn,” Campbell said, appearing in the doorway. Apparently, she couldn’t wait even for Merry to be wheeled down. “Mallory was too stubborn. At least it’s convenient that you had
your
spell in the hospital. If this is something you and Mallory have going on, we’ll get to the bottom of it!”
“Do you know that she’s bulimic?” Crystal asked. Meredith tried to stare a hole into Crystal, but then observed that Crystal actually looked pretty loopy. The painkillers, no doubt.
“Thanks, Crystal, but we practically need a second mortgage to keep them both in chicken and pancakes.”
“She probably just throws it all up,” Crystal said.
“I’d know,” Campbell said. “She’d have bad teeth.”
“You can cover it up if you carry toothpaste,” Crystal said.
“How do you know so much about it?” Mallory asked sweetly, and Merry had never loved her twin more. Crystal made a face. Crystal had been a dancer since she was four. It was well-known that ballerinas were renowned pukers.
Merry said, “Mom, I’m not bulimic. And I didn’t have a seizure.” The gurney moved into the elevator and began to rocket drop to the basement, where the ER and operating rooms were.
“We know now that this probably isn’t hormonal because you’ve already hit puberty,” Campbell went on. “Although it could be . . .”
“Oh, kill me now,” Merry said, her face the color of stewed beets. The intern, blond and athletic-looking, standing a foot away from her, was probably twenty. No, you couldn’t be even a training doctor if you were only twenty. He was still young enough to give Merry a quiver in her stomach. After they got to the emergency room, Campbell hauled Merry behind a flimsy partition and held out one of those horrifying hospital gowns that showed your butt even if you weighed ninety pounds. Right in front of the cute-guy medical student.
“MOM! Let me go into the bathroom.”
“You don’t have anything no one’s never seen,” Campbell said. “It’s just biology!”
This was their mother’s favorite phrase. She ought to have the T-shirt.
“You’re so sensitive, Mom!” Meredith snapped. “Like I want everyone to see mine again!”
A few hours later, Merry’s perfectly, nicely made little pin-braids were matted and gluey from the eight million Frankenstein electrodes a technician stuck to her head before taking pictures of her brain. Mally had gone out into the lounge, at first whispering to her twin that she wished the pictures would show the part with the gift in it so they could both get it removed with a poke in the ear. Campbell e-mailed the results to a neurologist in Manhattan, and they all listened as he read them: no evidence of any history of seizures, no shadows that could be tumors. Unless the underlying cause was very, very subtle, there was no need for neurological follow-ups unless there was another event.
Mallory wandered into the room, rubbing her eyes.
“I was having my head examined and you were asleep?” Merry demanded. “What a leaker! Look at my hair! I have a sleepover to go to!”
“You’re still going to go out . . . looking like . . . that? God, you are desperate,” Mally said.
“Well, no, I would go home if I didn’t have work to do! You know? If I’m going to . . . I have to tell you what I
think
, you know what I mean by
think
?” Merry asked. “I kind of have to go there if I
think
I could find out what happened at the tryouts. And I don’t even have clothes, and Dad will probably bring me a pair of pajamas with duckies on them!”
“Oh, okay,” Mallory apologized. “I didn’t know you
thought
something. I really believed you fell over in there from natural causes. At least, I hoped it wasn’t a . . . you know.”
“She’s got a pretty hard head. And I can’t imagine what could be an emotional cause,” Mally’s mother said to Dr. Staats, the twins’ pediatrician, who’d dropped by.
Dr. Staats asked, “No changes at home? No big upsets or events since that terrible business last year?”
Tim came in with a duffel for Merry. He gave Campbell the one look that parents don’t know kids recognize for just what it is: something that they want kept secret.
There
is
something going on at home,
Merry thought. They were lying!
About what?
“No!” Merry said. “At least, I don’t have any trouble.”
That I can tell you about
, she thought. “It was Crystal’s injury. It just made me woozy.”
“Well . . .” Campbell said. “She’s the sensitive one. When Mallory broke her leg, she thought that seeing bone protrude was interesting. Maybe it is emotional. I know how much emotional things can affect you physically.”
Mom spoke so sweetly and sadly that both girls thought,
What’s with her?
Did Campbell have an ulcer or something? Was Tim having an affair? Who’d have an affair with their father? When he wanted to get dressed up, he broke out a new ball cap.
Were they going to have something else to worry about?
Dark particles were whirling all around, and no one could see it except lucky people like Merry and Mallory. Couldn’t it at least stay out of their house?
PAST OR FUTURE?
T
o their parents’ shock, the twins willingly jumped into the way-back seat—the place they normally exiled Adam. They weren’t out of the parking lot before Mallory whispered, “Okay, spill it. Now that I know you passed out because you saw, so what did you see?”
“Tape!” Merry said. “Tape on the bottom of somebody’s shoe but not just that. I also saw her hands!”
“Did you see the lion flip over the shoes?” Mally asked.
“No. Just the tape on the shoes,” Merry said. “But I saw someone doing it. Putting the tape on. Shut up about the lion. It’s like mixing nuts and oranges.”
“It’s apples and . . . never mind. It’s connected, Merry. I don’t want to get started with this now, but I saw the lion once before in a dream. Eden knows about the lion somehow. And it made me think. Do you know what you saw, up on the ridge? What made David scream?”
“I don’t. Just a flash of something. I try not to think about it. Did I even tell you I saw something?”
“Maybe you didn’t tell me speeshaw. Ad nye blocken hearsen,” Mally replied, slipping into twin tongue.
“Stop that,” Campbell said automatically, with bionic hearing that screened out anything but what she wanted to hear. She turned the radio on.
“Okay. Maybe you heard me think about it. Whatever,” Merry began again. “So you saw the cat twice, and you think it’s connected or you think it’s a coincidence?”
“I know it’s connected. I just said I saw it before, flathead! I saw it then, past tense, and now, present tense. Now, as in a couple of weeks ago. Then, as in up on a ridge, last winter. And I think it really was up on the ridge when David died. And . . . Eden has something to do with it.”
“Pull in here,” Campbell called out suddenly, as they passed Dean’s Dairy Den. “Tim, I want a green-tea milk-shake and fries with barbecue sauce. I heard that Shelby Dean will add any flavor you want now. Maybe I’ll have green tea and chocolate.”
“Oh gag!” Adam cried. “I’ll have a normal milk-shake and stand outside the car.”
“Mom,” Merry whined professionally. “I’m already years late for this sleepover! Can’t you go after you drop me off?”
Campbell sighed, then nodded. Tim drove on toward Haven Hills.
Merry dropped her voice again. She asked her twin, “Eden? Why Eden? She’s not a cheerleader.”
“I don’t know. But it was a cheerleader’s shoe that the lion flipped over.”
“Did it see tape on the shoe?” Merry asked. “You didn’t see the mountain lion look at tape on a shoe?”
“Who could see tape on a shoe? It’s invisible!” Mallory wanted to jump out of the car. They were already in the housing development and had so little time left to talk.
“Anyhow, I didn’t see the lion when I fell in Crystal’s hospital room,” Meredith said. “I only saw someone’s hands putting the tape on. And I think I know whose. I think I’m staying over tonight at her house.”
“For real? You think it was Neely? You said no way before.”
“Well, I don’t know how she would have known who to try to hurt. I haven’t figured that out. But whoever I saw had little hands, like mine and yours. Who else has little hands? Alli? Kim? I know it wasn’t them. The hands had gold rings. Really pretty gold rings. Crystal never wears rings. And who else could afford them? Even if they’re cheapie gold, they’d be ten bucks each. Who has eighty dollars to spend on little rings?”
“So we’re going to find out if Neely did it, and if she’s going to do it again. And if she is . . .”
“I’ll stop her.”
“Merry, wow,” Mallory said admiringly. “That’s having some sand.” She was quiet for a moment. “I hate to have to tell you this but, you know I fell asleep out there,” Mallory admitted. “I was just tired. I didn’t think I’d dream. But I did, and I saw hands putting tape on a shoe too.”
“You mean we had the same dream?”
“Not the same dream,” Mallory said. “It means that it happened once. . . .”
“And it’s going to happen again in the future, obviously,” Merry went on. She drew a deep breath. “Well. So I know what’s what. I know what I have to do.”
They both fell silent.
“Do you think you might be in some danger, Ster?” Mallory asked. “You know, you’re her rival too. There are swimming pools there in her house and stuff.”
“Come on, she’s not trying to kill me, Mal. Don’t be dramatic. I’ll be fine. Alli and Caitlin will be there. I wouldn’t go alone.”
“It’s bugging me. Rings? Who wears rings? Who’s changed styles?” Mallory said. “I don’t pay attention to that stuff. I wouldn’t notice if Alli had her hair dyed green. I can’t think of anyone who wears rings.” She punched her hand. “I can’t think at all.”
“Well, it doesn’t have to be a cheerleader. It could be somebody else completely. Like someone who’s just pissed because a girl broke up with him. It could be a whole other agenda.”
“But who else would care enough to do something like that? Look at Crystal. I know she’s kind of dumb and conceited but . . . the poor girl. No one deserves that. And I should know what the connection is with Eden and the lion by now, but I don’t have a clue. How does it all fit?”
Her sister said, with a sigh, “I so do not want to find out. But that would hint that I had a choice about finding out. Which I don’t.”
“Look both ways tonight.”
“I will,” Merry said. She was used to Mallory being the tough one. Block by block, she lost her nerve. And on top of that, she grew more self-conscious. Goo in her hair. Wrinkled, sweaty clothes. She hoped they’d go swimming right away so no one would notice.
At least,
she thought,
this whole little matter will be over tonight.
A sad and painful thing for Crystal, but a piece of cake compared with last year.
Long afterward, Merry would look back and realize that she had allowed hope to triumph over instinct. She was so eager to see a simple ending—or any ending—that she had mistaken a cliff for a cul-de-sac.
THE NEELY FACTOR
N
ow, that’s some shack,” said Tim.
It was the first time that either Mally or Meredith had gotten more than a passing glance at the Chaplins’ new home. They’d seen it under construction several times, on the way to their grandparents’ house, but everyone at school had heard about the sauna, Neely’s second-floor workout room, and how the indoor pool had a lane that opened to the outdoor pool.
Grandpa Arthur Brynn, their father’s father, and his mom, Grandma Gwenny—the one who was from a long line of psychics—lived in Bell Fields, next to Haven Hills. And he had no use for these huge houses; he called them power guzzlers. Grandpa used to complain that all the young families were leaving Ridgeline, but now the town council Grandpa chaired was considering zoning rules to keep the population under control and stop more farms from becoming developed. People like the Chaplins, who moved from Chicago when her father’s business relocated to New York City, thought Ridgeline was “cute,” Grandpa Arty said, like some fairy-tale country town. When Dad’s brother Uncle Kevin pointed out that their money was as green as anyone else’s—probably more so—Grandpa stomped out to the back of the yard to smoke a cigar.
Still, who needed a seven-thousand-square-foot house? Some of the old folks said the Chaplin house was a
two-acre
house on a
three-acre
lot, although people knew they were exaggerating.
Neely had one stepbrother, Casey, a graduate student who didn’t come to visit much. There were eight bedrooms. Neely’s “suite” was the highlight—from the computer and music-mixing station to the bathroom bigger than most bedrooms to the weight equipment that had to have been lifted up the stairs by a crane or something. “She has a weight machine and a treadmill and an elliptical and a Pilates Cadillac,” Erika raved. “She doesn’t even have to walk upstairs to take a shower.”