The Leaving(41)

No, they never figured it out.

Would she, too, eventually become bored by her own narrative?

If she did end up writing a book, would it be one she even wanted to read?

The room got quiet. She felt the soft pressure of their gazes, like feathers.

“Could you point me toward the restroom?”

Trish stood and pointed. “Just this way.”

In the powder room, she checked the time on her phone and saw she had a message from Sarah.

Listened.

“It’s me, Sarah. I think I’m remembering more things. I remembered someone else there with us. But not Max. Another girl, I think. But I don’t know. It’s like I can only see her as a police sketch in my head or something.”

Then voices through the line, then Sarah saying, “I gotta go.”

Hanging up.

Putting her phone back into her purse, Scarlett examined herself in the mirror—another outfit that felt wrong on every level—and fixed her hair.


Another girl?



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Was Sarah becoming unhinged?


I’m going on a trip.


To the leaving.


Going on a trip.


Tomorrow.


Or was it Scarlett who was losing purchase on reality?


Nothing about the novel had felt familiar at all.


But she’d said it.


I’m going on a trip.


To the leaving.


She felt the urge to go to the bathroom, but not here.

She shut it down.

And realized she could.

So maybe had.

But it wouldn’t last.

Couldn’t.

“Anything?” Tammy said when she returned to the living room.

“No.”

“What are you waiting for?” she snapped.

Their feather gazes felt heavier this time around, dead birds on her lap.

Scarlett cast an apologetic look at Tammy. “I really don’t think we were abducted.”

Ted said, “Maybe the hot air balloon is a trick of the mind. Maybe it was a craft of another kind.”

“I didn’t remember at first, either,” Trish said. “Give it time.”

“Tell us something.” Ted leaned forward. “Was there something special about Max? Why do you think they would keep him?”

“I don’t remember Max,” Scarlett said. “Everybody knows that by now, don’t they? I mean, it’s all over the news, right?”

The walls all seemed to inch just a tiny bit closer.

“Some of us have had good experiences with hypnosis,” another woman said. “I saw that one of the others has consulted a hypnotist.”

Yes, the room was definitely shrinking.

Scarlett needed space to breathe.

She said, “Do any of you know of any group abductions? Like when six people were taken?”

This sparked a lively conversation that Scarlett didn’t pay attention to, except to occasionally nod. Mostly, she was watching the walls—which were back where they’d started—and Tammy, who seemed at ease here. So maybe she and her mother were and always would be aliens; maybe the only goal that made sense was peaceful cohabitation on their shared planet until Scarlett was old enough to leave.

Maybe most teenagers felt that way.


“So what did you think?” Tammy asked as they walked to the car after the meeting wound down.

All Scarlett could think to say was, “They seemed nice.”

Maybe some of them had been part of Sashor’s study.

“Why were we chosen?” Scarlett asked when they got into the car. “Why do you think we, specifically, were chosen?”

“Because I was a terrible mother.” Tammy started the car and lit a cigarette. “Because I didn’t deserve you. Because I was screwed up and I was going to screw you up, too.”

Scarlett opened her window. “A lot of people are bad parents, if you even are.”

“Not as bad as me.” Her mother sniffled and ashed out her window.

“Well, I’m sure you were doing the best you could. And anyway, you changed. You’re better now.” From the driveway, through the living room bay window, the people inside looked so normal. Scarlett willed her mother to put the car into Drive.

“Am I?” Exhaling smoke through her nose. “Or is it just that I mostly stopped having to be a parent so I couldn’t be a bad one? You’re here and I’m still your mother, but you don’t need me the way you did when you were little.” More ash out the window; the cigarette seemed like it wasn’t getting any shorter. “I swear, there were days, like when you were throwing some kind of tantrum, like about getting dressed, and I’d just say to myself, You just have to make it one more hour with her and then she’ll go to preschool and you can have a drink. And I’d have a drink after I dropped you off. At nine in the morning. I used to tell the others moms I walked to pick-up to get the exercise, but it was because I’d be too drunk to drive by noon.”



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“That’s why we were chosen. To teach me a lesson.”

“Did you learn it? What was the lesson?”