Rapid Falls(49)

Anna looks slightly ashamed. “Okay, sure. I don’t want to be a burden to you, Rick.”

Neither of us responds. We both know that she already is, but there is no point in saying it.

I clear my throat to break the awkward silence. “I’ll talk to Larry. We can figure something out.”

Rick and Anna smile at me. They both seem so happy with the ideas I have presented to them. It is such a nice moment that it’s easy to forget that I’m never going to let those things happen.





CHAPTER TWENTY

September 1997

Beaver Creek Correctional Center, the minimum-security prison just outside of Rapid Falls, didn’t take juvenile offenders. When the lawyer told Anna that she would be charged as a minor, she was relieved that she would be sent to the prison just outside of Nicola. I wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t wanted to go to Beaver Creek. I wouldn’t want to be guarded by the same guys who used to coach us in Little League either. I was in the kitchen during the call with the lawyer. As her terror lifted, I realized how pretty Anna still was.

My dad and I left Rapid Falls to visit Anna the day after she self-surrendered. The drive to Nicola felt similar to the one my dad and I had taken right after the accident, except back then I felt like my dad wanted to be with me. Now my presence seemed like an irritation. I wondered if he was hungover or if he drank so much that he couldn’t even register the effects anymore. I spent the drive looking out the window, trying to get ready to see my only sister behind bars. Anna would be in jail for three years. It was a short sentence, based on her age and clean record, but as we pulled up to the grimy gates of the juvenile detention center, my stomach heaved. Three years suddenly felt like forever.

The visiting room felt more like the waiting room of a doctor’s office than a place where you would go to see a convict. Couches and armchairs were grouped in small clusters around the room. My dad and I found a spot where three chairs faced each other around a small wood table.

“This is fine,” my dad said as he sat down, as if in response to a question. He seemed nauseated; his forehead looked damp.

“You okay, Dad?” I whispered reflexively, not wanting the guards standing at the front to hear me. His silence made me feel like I was six years old, being punished for something unsaid—something I hadn’t even realized he had discovered and, worse, that I wasn’t even sure was my fault.

My mom used to tell a story about Anna’s first swimming lesson. Anna was terrified to go into the pool and sat on the lip of it for the entire class, watching the other kids. During the second class, she refused to enter the water again, but that time another little girl joined her, and they’d stayed at the edge in silent protest together. Sandy and Anna both used to say it was how they knew they were destined to become best friends. I wondered if Anna was as scared now as she was then. I wondered if Sandy would come to visit her.

There was only one other group of people in the room—an older woman with a scared-looking little girl. Maybe it was their first time here as well. The woman caught me staring. I smiled, but she looked away quickly. A buzzer sounded, and the door at the far end of the room opened. A girl who looked about my age, with dark hair, scowling features, and a khaki-colored jumpsuit, came out. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the little girl’s face light up and the scowling girl smile back with the kind of smile you feel embarrassed seeing on the face of someone you don’t know.

“Mommy!” the little girl cried. I would have thought the little girl was her younger sister.

Anna came out next. She saw us right away, and her face broke into a grin, like she had just noticed us on the sidelines of her track meet. The expression quickly changed to sadness. She was wearing a jumpsuit too, but hers looked like it was a few sizes too large. She had to roll the cuffs at the sleeves, like we used to do when we played dress-up with our mom’s clothes. Anna looked at the guard standing beside the door and raised her eyebrows, gesturing toward us. The guard nodded and Anna walked forward. Her hesitant approach to the routine made my stomach twist. I squashed down my guilt. After what she did, she should be glad I was visiting her at all.

“Hey,” Anna said when she was still ten feet away. Without turning my head, I could see the group beside us had settled in the opposite corner. The little girl was sitting on her mother’s knee, and the older woman was setting out containers of food.

“Hey,” I said, a second too late. My dad just nodded. His face was hard as stone. Anna slid down into an upholstered chair. We sat in silence for a second.

“Where’s Mom?”

My dad didn’t respond. At least I was not the only person he ignored.

“She’s sick,” I lied.

Anna put her hands over her face and wiped the slate, then tried to laugh. “Okay. I hope she feels better soon. What’s new?” She seemed nervous.

My dad looked at her closely and finally spoke. “How are you doing, Anna?”

Anna’s eyes shone and I looked away.

“Well, it takes a little getting used to. It’s kind of . . .” She made a choking sound, something between a gulp and a cough. I turned to my dad quickly and saw his eyes were wet too, like an old dog’s. I looked away, embarrassed. I was glad the other people weren’t looking at us. Prison didn’t seem like a place where you would want to get caught crying. Besides, it didn’t seem so bad. I could see the family beside us happily munching on sandwiches like they were having a picnic at the park. I realized we should have brought Anna something. Anna looked at me carefully and ran her hands over her face again, trying to compose herself.