Was it my fault? Was Ava right? Had I endangered us all somehow? But how? What could Ava possibly point to that I had done? I had never told him anything specific about us. The truth was, I never had a conversation with him that was more than a few minutes long.
“I never saw anything in him that would lead me to believe he would… that he was… what he was, Daddy. There were no hints, nothing in what he said or how he looked at me, that would have revealed such a thing.”
“I would have seen it if he had approached me in school,” Ava said.
“You are a lot more advanced than she is, Ava,” Mrs. Fennel said.
“I’m not talking about now. I’m talking about when I was her age,” Ava said, taking a much sharper tone with Mrs. Fennel than I had ever seen her take.
“Well, we don’t know that to be true, since it never happened to you, now, do we?” Mrs. Fennel insisted.
I raised my eyebrows. I would never expect Mrs. Fennel to retreat, but it did surprise me that she was coming to my defense so strongly.
“None of that is the point now, Ava!” Daddy shouted. Ava wilted and lowered her head. “The point,” he continued in a much calmer tone, “is that we’ll have to be a lot more aware now, a lot more alert. They know by now that he failed last night. They’ll either move on or return for revenge.”
“You can never tell what renegades will do,” Mrs. Fennel added, nodding. “Usually, they are a cowardly bunch. Whenever they’re discovered where they shouldn’t be and they’re threatened, they retreat. That’s what makes what happened last night unusual. He had the courage to come right to our door, practically.”
“Window,” Ava muttered. “Her window.”
“I swear, I never told him where we live, Daddy.”
“He didn’t need you to tell him.”
“Maybe he followed us home one day,” Marla said. Even though she didn’t know all the grisly details, she was eager to make a contribution.
“Maybe,” Daddy agreed. She smiled, pleased that she might have made some significant input to the discussion.
“What do we do now, Daddy?” I asked. “I mean, what do we look for in the people we meet?”
“I’m afraid Ava’s right when it comes to that,” he said. Ava had that self-satisfied expression on her face. She looked redeemed. “It’s something that grows inside you, this instinct for survival, our special survival. I’m sure you’ll develop it soon, but in the meantime… well, I don’t want you to become paranoid, of course, but…”
“Trust no one,” Mrs. Fennel said. “Assume no one is innocent.”
“How did he know to target me, Daddy? I’m not that much different from the other girls at school.”
“Is she kidding? Are you kidding?” Ava asked me. Ava looked at Daddy as if she expected he would elaborate more on what she was saying.
“Let’s not go into this any further right now,” he said. Ava looked disappointed. “I am expecting our people in about an hour, so have your breakfast and relax. I don’t want to hear any bickering,” he warned, looking more at Ava. “We’re united, one, when it comes to this sort of thing.”
Mrs. Fennel rose. “Everything’s been put out for your breakfast,” she said.
The three of us got up to go to the dining room. Daddy lingered, turned, and went back to the window. If they were going to seek revenge, did he expect they would come this soon? Had what happened last night been what he was always worrying would happen? Was this the sort of thing he would pause to listen for? Were these so-called renegades always after one of us? Why was it my luck to have it happen to me? Why hadn’t it happened to Ava? Maybe then she wouldn’t be so damn arrogant, I thought.
None of us talked much at breakfast, even though Marla wanted to know more details. Daddy never came in. I returned to my room and waited until Mrs. Fennel came to get me.
“They’re here,” she said. “You know some of them, of course. Just do what your father said. Tell them what happened.”
I nodded and followed her out to the living room. Four of the elders had arrived. I recognized Mr. Biggi and Mrs. Everstreet. They had both been here many times before and brought both me and Marla presents. We called them Uncle and Aunt. Mr. Biggi was as kindly to us as any grandfather would be. He had a full head of thick white hair, a robust complexion, and a firm, self-confident posture. Like Daddy’s age, his was impossible to determine. Despite the soft, light wrinkles around his eyes, his eyes were as bright as a newborn baby’s.
Aunt Everstreet, on the other hand, looked more like Mrs. Fennel, tall and slim, with a habitual hardness in her face. Her nose was not as pointed or her chin as pronounced as Mrs. Fennel’s, but she seemed to have the same eyes and spoke with the same sharp confidence, projecting that no-nonsense demeanor. She was always happy to see us, however. This morning, she looked more serious than ever.
I was introduced to Mr. Taggert and Mr. White. Both looked younger than Mr. Biggi and Mrs. Everstreet but much older than Daddy. I thought I had seen Mr. White before, maybe when I was only five or six. He looked more nervous than any of the others.
Daddy sat in his chair. “This is Lorelei, you’ll all remember,” he said.
Mr. Biggi was the only one who smiled at me. The others nodded and quickly sat.
“Okay,” Daddy said. He wanted me to remain standing in front of them. He turned to me. “Begin with the first day he approached you.”
I didn’t know how detailed I should be, but I even described what he had been wearing. I told them the things he had said as best as I could recall, and I even told them about his joke with the personal references.
Mrs. Everstreet asked me to describe his face in as much detail as I could. I didn’t want to say it, but his eyes drew my attention so hard and fast that it was almost as if I didn’t notice the other features. She asked me about his hands, too, which I thought odd. There was nothing unusual about them that I could recall.
“I didn’t hold hands with him ever,” I said when she asked if his palms were soft and smooth.
They were all silent for a moment.
“The Ilks had a son who fits that description,” Mr. White said. “Remember that incident in Pittsburgh?”
“Yes, but that was some time ago. In fact, I haven’t heard anything about them for more than fifty years, I think,” Mr. Biggi said. “Tell us exactly what happened last night,” he told me.
I was a little hesitant, afraid that they would all see how weak I was, how I had almost been drawn out of my window. When I was finished, they were all quiet a moment. Then Uncle Biggi looked at Daddy.
“That was very close. Do you think you might want to move on, Sergio?”
“Absolutely not immediately. I’ve never run from any of them before, and I’m not about to now. I’ll consider when things calm down,” he said. “Lorelei has farther to go in her education,” he added.
No one had to tell me that he didn’t mean my school education.
“Everything’s been going fine here until this incident,” he continued. “You’ll all get the news out. It’s important that everyone understand that what was done had to be done. No one here is trying to do or be anything more.”
“I strongly doubt anyone would suspect you of that, Sergio,” Mr. Biggi said. He looked to Mr. Taggert, who had yet to say anything.
“However, if they farm here,” Mr. Taggert said, “it will be very bad, Sergio, very difficult for you to continue.”
“Well,” Daddy said, softening a bit, “not right away. It’s a city, a huge population, from which we draw.”
“You’re not saying there’s room for them, are you?” Mrs. Everstreet said. “Remember what happened in Paris just ten years ago.”
I looked at Daddy. What had happened in Paris?
He glanced at me. “Thank you, Lorelei. You can go do what you like now,” he said.
I rose.
“You’re looking quite beautiful,” Mr. Biggi said. “You’re surely going to be one of your fath
er’s favorites.”
“Quite striking, Sergio. Don’t risk losing her,” Mr. Taggert said.
“I won’t,” Daddy said sharply. He looked at me with an expression that said, Go.
I returned to my room. Ava was waiting there for me, standing by the window and staring at the bloodstain Mrs. Fennel had not yet washed away. Maybe she wanted it to be there forever as a reminder for me.
“What happened?” Ava asked.
I told her about the questions and what I had told them.
“I think Uncle Biggi wanted us to move,” I said.
“Really. What did Daddy say?”
“He was adamant that we wouldn’t.”
“Good. Uncle Biggi is a wimp. Brianna never liked him, either.” She looked at me harder for a moment, and then her eyes softened. “I’ve got to spend more time with you now, and you with me, Lorelei. Some of this is my fault.”
I didn’t say anything. Lately, I thought we were becoming more and more estranged and I thought that she resented me. I was happy to hear that she wanted us to spend more time together.
“We’ll do something together this weekend. Just something sisterly,” she quickly added.
“Okay. I’d like that.”
“I’m taking you two to school and picking you up on Monday. It might be a strange day there.”
“How do you mean?”
“How do I mean?” She rolled her eyes. “Mark Daniels won’t be there, Lorelei. He doesn’t come back.”
“Oh. Right. I wasn’t thinking of that.”
She shook her head. “I’m not criticizing you,” she said, “and I’m not speaking like some jealous sister, but you either are ignoring your powers of foresight or you don’t have them. Later,” she said before I could respond, and left.
What she said brought back a fear I’d had ever since I could remember. I didn’t have the same confidence she had and, from what I could remember of Brianna, she had as well. Even Marla had more confidence than I had. They were all secure in their faith in themselves, in their belief that they would please and satisfy Daddy. They would live up to his expectations. I looked for some self-doubt in Ava but never found it. I was simply more afraid than they ever were that I would not be the daughter Daddy expected.
Nothing more was said about Daddy’s meeting with the elders or what had happened the night before. We all went about our business as if nothing unusual had happened. Only I seemed to be thinking about it, but perhaps that wasn’t unusual. I was the one he had come after, and I was the one who was almost lost. A few times, I approached Daddy with the intention of apologizing, but I didn’t know for what. I wanted to thank him as well, but he didn’t look as if he wanted to hear any more about it, so I retreated from that idea.
On Monday morning, as she had promised, Ava drove Marla and me to school.
“What you do now,” she told me as we drove, “is be just as surprised as anyone else that Mark Daniels isn’t there. If asked, you just say that you don’t know anything. He never called you, nor did you ever see him anywhere but in the building. Don’t say anything else or encourage any further discussion, understand?”
“Yes, Ava.”
“However, if you overhear anyone else speak about him, especially his family, you listen carefully. Daddy would want to hear about that.”
Mark’s absence wasn’t really noticed until the third day. Chatter had begun lightly but really broke out into full interest by then. From what I overheard, no one really knew that much about his family. Curtis Simon, an African American who was probably going to be the class valedictorian, seemed to know the most about Mark and his family. I sat close enough to him and his friends at lunch one day to overhear him say that while he had never met anyone else in Mark Daniels’s family, he had once been at his home in Westwood.
“Actually,” he told the others, “it looked like no one else lived there. He never talked about his parents much at all.”
I saw him look my way.
And then, in a loud voice, he added, “He was probably so brokenhearted he couldn’t go on attending school here.”
Everyone laughed.
Later that afternoon, Curtis approached me in the hallway and asked me if I knew anything about Mark’s disappearance.
“Did he call you or anything and tell you he would be leaving?”
“Mark never called me,” I said. “I never gave him my phone number. Maybe his father lost his job or something. I couldn’t care less,” I added, and walked away.
“Well, pardon me, Miss Hot Ass!” he shouted after me.
If anything, all this did was alienate me more from the rest of the student body. The only one who seemed to notice, however, was Mr. Burns. He asked me if there was anything wrong, anything he could help me with.
“I’m fine,” I told him.
“You come to me if you need anything,” he said. “Anything at all, Lorelei. You wrote a very good paper on Lady Macbeth,” he added.
I thanked him but tried to avoid his eyes and his interest in me the rest of the week. Word finally spread that Mark Daniels’s family had moved away. When I arrived home, I immediately told Daddy. He was in the kitchen talking with Mrs. Fennel. They both looked at me and were quiet for a moment.
“Well, maybe it’s over, then,” Daddy finally said. He smiled. “Let’s just continue as if none of it ever happened.”
I looked at Mrs. Fennel. She was studying me so hard my heart began to race.
“Okay, Daddy,” I said.
When I stepped into my room, I looked at the bedroom window through which I had almost been pulled into oblivion.
The bloodstains were finally gone.
10
Back to Normal
Ava was true to her word. Suddenly, she wanted to include me in everything she was doing. We went shopping together to keep up with some of the latest fashions. Ava was far more of a fashion guru than I was, but in her way of thinking, it was all work-related.
“Daddy places no limits on our budget because he wants us to be walking sticks of dynamite out there,” she said, half kidding. She looked at me and added, “Neither of us really has to depend on clothes, though, Lorelei. But why not take advantage?” She laughed. It was good to hear her laugh and, more important, to have her include me in everything she thought for herself.
Sometimes we just took rides with no particular destination in mind. She would pop her head in my doorway and say, “Let’s get some fresh air.”
I loved that, because just cruising was conducive to talking, to exchanging thoughts and ideas the way sisters should. I learned a lot about her youth during those rides, how she had always been so envious of Brianna, until that night when Brianna made the mistake with the married man. She had often questioned me about it when I was younger, acting as if she was unhappy that she had not been the one to have actually seen it all. I would have gladly changed places with her.
“I told myself I would never disappoint Daddy like that, if I could help it,” Ava said. “Of course, I did with that stoned man,” she sadly admitted.
“He’s forgiven you,” I told her.
“Maybe. In any case, Lorelei, Daddy forgives only once. Remember that.”
I didn’t want to ask her what that meant, what would happen if she or I seriously upset Daddy more than once. At this point in my life, I couldn’t imagine Daddy ever being so angry at me that he would disown me. When I was younger, I had had those fears, but I felt closer to him now, and although I wouldn’t say it to Ava, I did still feel that I was his special daughter.
We continued to have these good, intimate talks. Sometimes we just sat on the beach in Santa Monica and watched people sailing or simply sunned ourselves. She became more and more open about her own feelings while growing up with Brianna still in the house.
“I learned a lot just watching her, despite my young age. That’s what I mean by instinct,” she said, but she went on to describe her own days of doubt and difficulty, especially when it
came to Mrs. Fennel, whom she now admitted she obeyed more out of fear than respect.
“I mean, I respect her because Daddy has such high regard for her, but I won’t miss her when I leave.”
“When will you leave, Ava?”
“When Daddy says it’s time,” she said. She turned to me. “And that depends on you.”
I didn’t say anything, but I nodded.
“Don’t worry. You’ll do fine,” she said. She reached for my hand and smiled. For a while, it was as if we were no different from any other two young women, young sisters opening up their intimate thoughts and feelings.
We continued to spend time together. We went to movies, flirted a bit with boys in the malls, and enjoyed our shopping sprees, sometimes just buying silly hats or purses. Marla was upset that she wasn’t included, but Ava got around that by telling her that I would do exactly with her what she was now doing with me. Once again, she heard that familiar expression, the one I had grown up with: “Your time will come. Be patient.”
Daddy stayed home more, too, and soon he was doing more things with us, things that included Marla anyway. When spring break came, he took the three of us to San Francisco. We had a wonderful time doing what he called the “Tourist Polka,” and we had some fun food for a change, without Mrs. Fennel looking over our shoulders. We spent a day in Carmel and then drove down the coast and saw Big Sur. Daddy also decided we would go to the Hearst Castle on the way home. He had been in many, many castles and made comparisons for us, sometimes with very descriptive details about the art, the interiors, and the grounds, including the plants and trees.
“How can you remember so much?” I asked him.
“I don’t know, Lorelei. I just do. There are many things I don’t understand about myself,” he revealed.
Ava overheard his answer. I saw her eyebrows lift. I understood why. Daddy never admitted to any weaknesses or flaws. This sounded a bit as if he was doing just that, and for us that was extraordinary.
The vacation flew by too quickly. I had never felt more like part of a family and hated to see it end. Although Daddy was sweet to all three of us, he once again singled me out to take me for a walk on our last night of the vacation. We had driven down to Santa Barbara, and after dinner, he had come to Marla’s and my room in the hotel. Ava had her own room. Marla was already in her pajamas in bed watching television.