Help for the Haunted(93)

“Before things got any worse around here,” I told them, looking at my father’s weary face then at my mother in her chair. “I made up my mind to protect us. I’m sorry. Maybe it wasn’t right. But that’s exactly what happened. I know it’s part of your work, but I felt afraid. Not just for myself. But for all of us.”

For a long moment after that, no one spoke. My sister had stopped kicking the rug a while before, so the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock. At last, my father said, “Rose, go upstairs and pack your things.”

“Pack?” I said. “What for?”

Rose stood from the sofa. “I told you, Sylvie,” she said on her way toward the stairs. “You should have kept your big mouth shut. You think you’re the smartest in this family, but you’re really the stupidest of all.”

“Enough of that,” my father told her. He was no longer yelling, though, nobody was. “Go to your room. We’ll leave in a half hour.”

“Leave?” I said to my parents as I saw my sister slip out of the living room and walk away up the stairs. “Leave where? I told you I was the one who did it.”

“From what I just heard,” my father said, “it was Rose who kept urging you to sneak downstairs and watch TV. Am I right?”

I was quiet, because the truth was being used against us both now.

“And it was Rose who told you the smart thing to do was get rid of Penny. Am I right there too?”

Again, I did not respond.

“So it’s apparent that Penny is not the one having a bad influence around here. It’s your sister controlling things. Putting ideas in your head too. And I’m tired of it.”

My mother kept her eyes on the floor. “But Sylvester, can’t we try one more time? What about her senior year?”

“We talked about this. Enough trying. It’s not just about what happened last night. It’s about getting Rose’s head right.”

I opened my mouth to try and convince him not to take Rose wherever they were going, but I knew it was useless. Instead, I turned and ran upstairs and down the hall to my sister’s room. When I stepped inside, the cinnamon-colored suitcase we shared was wide open on the floor, a heap of clothes tossed inside along with her black sneakers. I wondered if she might yell at me about what I’d done, but Rose stayed quiet, grabbing things at random: a stash of heavy metal records, a few half-melted candles, a carton of cigarettes hidden in the back of her closet, even her old globe. I watched her, saying nothing until she reached under her bed and pulled out a forgotten horse. Pure white with shimmering blue eyes and a mane made of miniature white feathers like an Indian headdress. Same as me, Rose tugged at a leg to see if it might snap off. When that didn’t work, she pulled two limbs in opposite directions, wishbone style, but that wouldn’t break them either.

“Here, Sylvie.” She handed the horse to me. “You might as well keep the last unbroken one. Write and let me know how long it survives after I’m gone.”

“Where are you going?”

“Jail. Or something close to it.”

“I’m serious, Rose.”

“Some school. Saint Julia’s, I think it’s called. Ask Mom or Dad about it.”

“Let’s talk to them again. Convince them not to—”

“It’s too late, Sylvie. Especially since you’re the one who did the convincing in the first place. Besides, this isn’t as sudden as it seems. Dad’s been cooking up this scheme for a while now. He had the place ready and waiting for me, as soon as I made a wrong move. Only it turned out I didn’t need to. You did it for me. I should probably thank you, though, since anywhere will be better than here.”

In another part of the house, the phone rang, sounding shrill. Someone must have answered it quickly, because after the second ring things fell quiet.

“I don’t want you to go,” I told my sister.

Rose did her best to force the suitcase closed, but it was too full. She jettisoned the globe, placing it back on her dresser, then yanked out some clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. After that, I helped her by sitting on top of the suitcase. “Yeah, you do, Sylvie,” she said, the buckles releasing a solid thwack each time one snapped into place. “You just don’t know it yet. Life will be more peaceful here without me.”

“But when am I going to see you again?”

“That’s a question for Mom and Dad too. I bet they’ll tell you it’ll be as long as it takes to get my head right. Isn’t that the line of crap they like to say about me? Either way, let me give you some advice: You know how they always tell us about their rule that we can share anything with them?”

I nodded.

“Don’t believe it.”

The final buckle snapped shut, sealing the suitcase tight and putting an end to the topic. My sister stood and went to the door. She must have wanted at least a few minutes to herself, but I stayed put a moment longer, looking around the small space, which felt somehow void of her presence already.

“You know something, squirt? I always knew you were bright. But you’re pretty brave, too. Dumping that doll down the well.”

Sitting on that overstuffed suitcase, I didn’t feel so brave. What I felt was foolish. But what point was there in telling my sister that? When I stood and stepped past her into the hallway, I felt the urge to give Rose a hug. It had been years since the two of us had done that, however, and it made me nervous to think of how she might react. Instead, I said simply, “I’m sorry for ruining things.”