Sadie(32)

I stare at my meal, my stomach turning at the thought of it, but I have to eat.

I have to eat if I want to do anything next.

I close my eyes briefly, and then I slip a piece of apple into my mouth and carefully chew it into a paste and then I realize that I can’t taste it. It’s nothing on my tongue. I ignore my rising panic and take another bite of apple, trying to force myself to reach past everything that’s wrong to something crisp, sweet and fresh.

After an agonizing moment, its flavor seeps into my taste buds and then it’s too sweet.

I never used to like apples.

May Beth said when I was little, an only child, I was always hungry, starving, arms reaching for food and even then, I was still picky. She said I only understood sugar and grease and if she tried to give me anything good enough to grow bones, I’d cry until my eyes were so swollen, I couldn’t see. In those moments, she’d trick me; put pieces of apple on my tongue and call them candy. It wasn’t long before I caught on and bit her hard enough to draw blood. But then Mattie came along and May Beth said she’d end up pickier than me if I didn’t set a better example and did I want to see my little sister aching for food?

I couldn’t think of anything I wanted less.

“Can I ask you something?”

I place a piece of cheese on my tongue and it sits in my mouth. I have to take a long drink of the smoothie to force it down.

“S-sure.”

He leans forward, his eyes searching my face.

“What’s wrong, Lera?”

“L-let me eat,” I tell him. “L-let me f-finish eating f-first.”

He sits there awkwardly, patiently, while I work through the breakfast he’s bought me. It’s an awful, absurd exercise in self-preservation, putting the food in my mouth, consciously instructing myself to swallow, because if I don’t it will just sit there. All this production just to make it to the next moment. Javi gives me a small smile and I hear his voice, last night, over the din in the bar: Their dad was my T-ball coach.

Sometimes, I feel made of Mattie’s absence, this complete emptiness inside me and the only thing that makes it bearable, that quiets it, is moving, is putting distance between her murder and pushing myself closer to the promise of taking Keith’s life. It still hurts, though. It always hurts. Other times, I can only feel the weight of it, all of it, of every Sadie I’ve been, every choice that she’s made, and everything she could have possibly gotten so wrong that she’d end up here. Now. Like this. Alone.

I get halfway through the smoothie before my stomach finally says no more and then I grasp the edge of the table, fighting the utter rejection my body wants to do of normal, automatic things. I remember the last time I felt this way. After Mattie died.

“Lera.” Javi reaches across the table and puts his hand on my arm. “What is it?”





THE GIRLS





S1E3


WEST McCRAY:


Caddy Sinclair is a tall, skinny white guy in his midthirties. He lives in Wagner and shares an apartment with his brother. He spends most days at Whittler’s Truck Stop, hanging around outside, or—when he can afford it—eating one of Ruby’s famous specials. He’s a local legend; everyone knows his name and that, he tells me, is precisely his problem.


CADDY SINCLAIR:

I wouldn’t mind being left the fuck alone.


WEST MCCRAY: Well then, I really appreciate you talking to me.


CADDY SINCLAIR:

Whatever. It’s not like I’m doing you some big favor. If you find this girl, I want to know.


WEST McCRAY [STUDIO]: Caddy’s an interesting contradiction; before he wanted to be left alone, a quick Google search of his name reveals a teenager who desperately wanted to be the next Eminem. If you head on over to musiccamp.com and search for the user “‘Sick Caddy” you can listen to six demos he recorded in a friend’s basement. If you’re streaming from our podcast’s official website, you’ll find an embedded player on this episode’s page. But do me a favor before you check it out: read the content warnings.


CADDY SINCLAIR:

That was a different … stupid time in my life. I’m not going to talk about it. Every kid thinks they got the makings of something great when they ain’t shit. Then you learn it’s better being nothing, anyway. [COUGHS] So you want to know about this girl, huh? She’s missing?


WEST McCRAY:

Yeah, she’s missing. I’m trying to help her family locate her.


CADDY SINCLAIR:

She’s probably dead.


WEST McCRAY:

Would you know something about that if she is?


CADDY SINCLAIR:

Nope. Mind if I smoke? [PAUSE, LIGHTER SOUND] The last time I saw her she was alive, but if she’s as out of her mind as she was when I met her, and if she comes at the wrong people like she came at me … well, you could lose your life for a lot less in this world.


WEST McCRAY:

Let’s back up a little here. You told me when we talked on the phone that Sadie came to you for information about Darren. She’d never been to Wagner before from what I can tell, so how did she know she needed to talk to you?


CADDY SINCLAIR:

Figure someone inside told her about me. Damned if I know. That part’s not real important, though, it could’ve been anyone. I’m the go-to guy around here. People want something—I mean, people want to know something, they’re going to come to me. I always know what the fuck’s going on because I just … I just do.