Acts of Violet(15)

“It’s okay.” My eyes feel gritty and I blink away threatening tears. “It just bothers me when you look for ways to use my sister’s name so we can make a quick buck.”

“After everything Violet put us through, I think we have the right to use her name to give us any advantage we can. Just my opinion and not what’s important here.” Gabriel holds a hand up to my cheek. “People have underestimated you for a long time. They thought because Violet was the loud one, you were the quiet one. That’s never been true. Violet just drowned you out.” The timer goes off, a tinny ring that echoes through the small room. “Maybe she even made you lose your voice a little.”

Maybe. But years of putting up with her drama have left me too worn-out to speak.

His face says the power is mine, the power of truth, the power to expose, to be vulnerable.

But it doesn’t feel like power, it feels like baring my neck to the guillotine.

“I have to protect Quinn,” I say.

“She already knows the tooth fairy and Santa Claus aren’t real.” His tone is tender, coaxing. “But she still has Violet up on that pedestal. Might be time for you to knock it over. Maybe it’s what Quinn needs to fully grow up.”

“Or maybe she’ll shoot the messenger. Or not believe the messenger. Or find a way to make me the villain of the whole thing.” When you really don’t want to believe something, you’ll create a new logic to circumvent the truth; sometimes necessity isn’t the mother of invention so much as denial. Alternately, Quinn could resent me for keeping secrets from her all these years. She already kinda does, she just doesn’t know the specifics. “Besides, can you imagine what the Wolf Pack would do if I gave an honest interview? They’d burn this place to the ground. Again.”

“We have better insurance now. If it would help you, it would be worth it,” he urges, giving my arm a squeeze.

Would it help, though? And at what cost? Never mind the salon. If there’s even a minute chance I could lose Quinn, it’s not worth the risk.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” I tell Gabriel, casting my eyes down so I don’t have to see his disappointment. “Nothing matters more than Quinn.”

“I think she’d understand.”

“There’s no way to know for sure. And if I can’t talk to her, I’m not ready for a podcast audience.” My eyes drift over to a box of latex gloves on the shelf beside me. A blue sticker on the side reads Inspected by #222. What’s the deal with all these twos? Doesn’t matter. There are more important things to focus on. “Please tell Cameron I’m out.”

When he leaves, I peel off the sticker, tear it up, and throw away the sticky pieces.



* * *



Date: January 28, 2018, at 6:00 PM

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: like I said …



* * *



… good intentions, bad idea. At least you had enough sense to give me a heads-up. We’ll come up with a way you can repay me for taking the blame. In the meantime, you’re welcome.

Love you, kiddo.





Strange Exits


Episode 1: “Violet’s Early Years”

CAMERON FRANK [STUDIO]: Whether you regard Violet Volk as a hero or villain, one thing both have in common is an origin story. This week, we’re going to examine the magician’s early years with the help of someone who knew her back in the day. I recently had the pleasure of speaking with Eleanor Toback, who taught Violet Volk at Willow Glen Elementary School.

Before we hear from Eleanor, I want to start with a bit of background on Violet herself.

She was born Varushka Volkov on January 25, 1975, in Newark, New Jersey, to Russian immigrants. Early the following January, sister Sasha was born. Their father, Anatoly, was a tailor and mother, Regina, was a hairdresser. Rising crime rates in the late 1970s and early 1980s drove the family to move downstate, to Willow Glen, a quiet middle-class suburb in South Jersey.

Willow Glen Township is the type of place where you could have an uneventful childhood. It’s also the type of place that any young person with lofty ambitions would want to escape.

Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. I’ve spent most of my life in a nearby town similar to Willow Glen, wishing I’d left.

But enough about me. Let’s meet our first guest, Eleanor Toback. After teaching at Willow Glen Elementary for twenty-four years, she transitioned to a position at the local library, where she still works today, and where we recorded our conversation. Eleanor is a petite woman in her late sixties with thick curly gray hair she wears down to her shoulders. Her blue eyes are sharp, her posture and vocabulary are better than yours, and she will verbally eviscerate you if you bring up the subject of retirement. Something else you should know about Eleanor: her memory is impeccable. She knows the Dewey Decimal System by heart and can name and describe every student she’s ever taught. Lucky for me, that includes Violet. Here’s our chat:

CAMERON FRANK: Thanks for speaking with me, Eleanor. And for letting us use the library after hours.

ELEANOR TOBACK: Well, you requested a quiet place, and this seemed fitting.

CAMERON FRANK: What years did you teach Violet?

ELEANOR TOBACK: Let’s see now…’85 to ’88. Fourth through sixth grade. Willow Glen Elementary was experimenting with looping, a system wherein teachers remained with a single class over the course of consecutive years. Its proponents believe fostering consistent student-teacher relationships offers an enhanced learning experience and improved academic performance. While Sasha was initially in the year below Violet, she was terribly bright and skipped the fourth grade, joining my fifth-grade class. Thus I had the chance to teach both Volkov sisters.