Gone, Gone, Gone(40)

I put my hand against my reflection for a second, like it’s a door I can fall through. This isn’t Alice in Wonderland. I’m not nearly pretty enough. I’m probably not even f*cked up enough.

There’s a scratching at the door. I open it, and a little white kitten comes in.

I go down the stairs.

I go down the next flight of stairs.

I’m in Craig’s room. Or his basement, anyway.

He’s on his side on his bed, facing away from me. He’s whispering. His voice is so quiet it makes my ears hurt to listen. Maybe whispering for him is like crying for most people.

He says, “Please please I would have saved him if I could, I would have done anything, would have given up anything just to keep him here so that my boy could be okay. I know there’s nothing I can do but I need it to be enough that I would have done it, and I need that boy back with me right now.”

I can’t listen to this without wanting to believe it’s about me. I can taste crying in the back of my throat and in my sore mouth. I don’t want it.

A dog barks and Craig starts to roll over. Fuck. I run back up the stairs with my six-minute-mile legs.

I hear, “Lio?”

I’m already gone. I sit in a chair in the kitchen. He doesn’t come after me.

I whisper, “What if someone breaks in and tries to kill me? What if you wake up and I’m gone?”

I take the phone off the wall and call home. My dad answers almost immediately. And instead of saying hello, he lists all of us who aren’t there, top to bottom: “Talia Rachel Veronica Lauren Lio?” He always does that. Always. And it always breaks my f*cking heart.

“The last one.”

“Honey. You okay?”

“Can you come pick me up?”

“I’ll be there in a second.”

“I want to come home,” I whisper.





CRAIG

WHEN I WAKE UP, HE’S GONE.

I can’t say I’m that surprised.

Was that a dream? Did I sleep?

My mom says, “Where’s Lio?”

“Left early.”

I made his escape too easy. The code for the alarm system is still on a Post-it on the wall, because we can’t remember it yet, and clearly my dogs don’t give a shit if someone comes or goes in the middle of the night, and I didn’t do anything to encourage him to stay, so what did I think would happen? I don’t even care that he left, pretty much. It’s not like he’s dead.

I make myself a bowl of oatmeal. Mom’s standing at the counter, reading the newspaper. “Anyone get shot?” I ask.

She clicks her tongue a little. “No.”

“Cool.”

She says, “You don’t need to rush. You’re not going to school today.”

“Wait, what?”

“We’re pulling you out until—”

“Until what?”

“Until this has passed, Craig. God, after what happened to that poor boy, you should be relieved to stay home.”

The truth is, I’m not particularly dying to go to school, but somehow I know this means I’m not going to see Lio today, and that sucks.

“Are you still going to work?” I ask, and then, “Is Dad going to work? What’s even going on in this house, God, is Todd asleep?” And when all of those are yes, I sit patiently and wait for Mom and Dad to leave and then, woosh, I’m out looking for animals. I find Carolina, my rabbit, scratched but okay, and Mom calls from work and says she has amazing news, that she got a call from the animal shelter and she’s coming home with Marigold.

I know that it’s amazing, and I try to get as excited about this as I was when we found Sandwich. But I’m having a hard time feeling anything today. It’s like I’m finally too tired for all of this.

Two cats.

One rabbit.

A guinea pig.

That night, while I’m hitting refresh over and over, a message finally comes in.

My heart stops and holds midbeat.

C—



Ok ok stop freaking out. I’m fine.



I miss you too.



My shrink told me to stop emailing you.



I heard about the shit happening back home. That’s insane. You’re safe, right?



Love,





C


Oh, God, he didn’t say “Fuck you.”

My fingers are going to fly off from typing so fast.

C—

I’m fine. Of course I’m fine. I’m emailing you, aren’t I?



Cody, I’m sort of dying without you. You should see the boys I’m turning down because I’m still hung up on you. What’s going on over there?



Love,





C


While I’m typing that, my email dings as a new message comes in.



Craiger—



I want to apologize for leaving last night. And for creeping into your room. Basically I’m just sorry for being such a creeper all the time.



School was lame. Hope you enjoyed your day off and you didn’t get shot or anything. Oh, sniper humor. Have you watched the news? They’re doing all these videos about how to not get shot when you’re pumping gas. Informative.