My heart jumped. “What?”
“Hautbois, high wood. That’s where the word oboe comes from.”
I tried to keep my voice calm as I grabbed her arm. Touching people seemed more normal all the time. “Is your oboe in the music room?”
She nodded.
I raced out of there. In the music room, Terese’s oboe was on its stand. I took it apart and scrutinized every section. A mystery inside. Did that refer to the clown or the oboe? What?
The case caught my eye. I brushed the parts aside and focused my attention on the case. Solid, sturdy, the case had probably cost a lot of money, too. That wasn’t a priority as I tore into it, ripping out the lining. The case was empty, nothing. I kicked the pile of lining nearest to my left foot. A piece of paper fluttered out. Between my fingers, the item felt more like parchment. The paper was blank.
“No, no, no.”
With the parchment firmly in my grip, I left the room and went to the kitchen. I sat in the nook, the paper on the table in front of me. I tried to figure out the reasoning for it all. Dad telling me the word turdueken.
Which led to Lexie remembering the mystery inside.
Which led to Lucas and the nesting dolls, obviously a present from Dad.
From there, hautbois, which led to Terese’s oboe.
We had all played our part. Hadn’t we? Was that my role, to put it together?
I looked at the parchment. Was this also meant for me to figure out?
As I flipped the parchment over and over, something occurred to me. When we were eight, Eddy and I had been into playing spy games. Dad gave us invisible ink and we wrote secret messages. But that was from a kit I didn’t have anymore.
Something else came to mind. A chemistry lesson Dad had done with me. You could make an ink. Out of what?
I carried the parchment into the lab. I remembered: phenolphthalein. And that it could be revealed by something. Damn, I couldn’t remember. Vapors, some kind of vapors.
In the lab, I scanned the shelves of chemicals, hoping something would ring a bell. It had to be something simple, everyday, right? If it was too complicated, Dad risked me not ever figuring it out. He did want me to figure it out, didn’t he?
No. Of course he didn’t.
Even if I had figured out the first clue, turducken, he wouldn’t have expected me to go to Lexie, who would provide the next part. And Lucas and the nesting clowns. They were a present from Dad. He knew I wouldn’t go to the nursery.
And Terese. He knew what I called her, how I didn’t like to be around her. He relied on my own predictability to keep me from finding the answer. I didn’t get along with my sisters enough to get their cooperation.
He counted on me being the same selfish, detached, untouchable loner I had been ever since we entered the Compound. Living behind my wall, not letting anything out. Or anyone in.
What else had he counted on me doing? Or not doing?
There was a plastic tote of cleaners sitting nearby. I fiddled with the bottle of glass cleaner, thinking how my father yelled at Mom and the girls if the lab wasn’t spotless.
I paused.
Behind the bottle of glass cleaner, there was a container of bleach. I stared at it for a moment, then felt myself actually grinning. “Yes!” Ammonia fumes. Ammonia fumes revealed the phenolphthalein ink.
Donning a face mask and gloves, I went to work with a beaker of ammonia. I held the parchment over the beaker. “Please, please, please.”
A message slowly revealed itself. Numbers. Lots of numbers, over two dozen.
The code?
What else could it be?
I had it. I had the power to get us out of here. Someone clapped hands behind me, in a slow rhythm. I turned.
My father stood there, leaning against the doorjamb, still clapping slowly. “Well done, Eli. I’m impressed.”
His face was raw and bruised. “Dad! Are you okay?”
He shrugged a bit. “Oh, fine. Fine as anyone can be when HIS WIFE IS TRYING TO POISON HIM!”
His shout made me jump. I took a step back, picking up the parchment as I moved. Had he done something to Mom? “She didn’t know, she just wanted you to have bread and—”
He held up a hand to silence me. His face was sweaty but he didn’t seem shaky. Exactly the opposite. “So you have the code now.”
I nodded. “We can get out, get you some help …”
“I don’t need ANY HELP!”
Again, his shout made me jump. I clutched the code in my palm.
He took a step inside the door.
I had to get out, away from him, and try the code. Me getting out was our only chance.
Dad let out a loud ragged sigh. “You try to do everything for your family, and what do they do in return?”
I sensed it was a rhetorical question.
“They try and poison you.” He picked up a Bunsen burner and slammed it on the floor for effect. I used the distraction to take a step toward the door, even as he moved slowly away from it, looking for something else to throw.
“I gave you everything. Everything …” He started picking up anything in his reach and hurled each item as he spoke. “Everything.” A tray of test tubes hit the ground. “Everything.” A pile of petri dishes hit the near wall, glass flying. “Everything.”
When he used both hands to pick up a microscope, I took my chance and ran out of the room as fast as I could.
I heard a roar behind me as he realized I was gone.
I shoved the parchment in my pocket and ran toward the door, my arms pumping. My heart pounded, more from the last few minutes than the physical exertion. At the hallway to the infirmary, I paused. I wanted to make sure Mom was okay. Make sure he hadn’t hurt her. But the only way to truly help her was to open that door and get help.
“Eli?” Dad’s faint voice from behind me spurred me on. I ran down the hall, into the family room, and through the archway.
The corridor seemed shorter than I remembered, because all too soon the silver door stood before me. In the surface, my face was reflected. Despite the distortion, I could still see my terrified expression. I saw myself there, in the door, clutching the parchment.
Yes, I was scared.
More than that, I was ready. Ready to do it, to try the code.
The silver door had a panel with a keypad. So simple. Yes, so simple, if you had the code.
I prayed that I did. I prayed so hard.
I hoped God was still around to hear.
I had to stop and think for a minute, to breathe. My hands shook. There might be a security lock as well, something that shut down the system if any wrong numbers were pushed. I took a few precious moments to breathe deep, try to calm myself. I couldn’t risk hitting a wrong number. Not when I was almost there.
“You’re so close, Eli.”
I gasped, whipping around to see my father. He smiled, his hands behind his back. “This is such a big occasion, you shouldn’t be all alone.”
One of his arms slowly came around, revealing that it was wrapped around Lucas, who looked up at me, confusion all over his face.
“Eli?”
I looked from him to Dad and shook my head, panic rising in my chest. “Let him go!”
Dad’s smile only widened as he gripped Lucas by the shoulders. “Let him go?” He leaned down and spoke to Lucas. “You want to go with Eli, right?”
Lucas nodded, looking surer of himself.
Dad straightened up. “He wants to go.”
I didn’t know what to do.
“Lucas, remember that song I taught you?”
Lucas nodded again.
“Do you think you can cover your ears and sing that song at the same time?”
Lucas grinned. “I think so.”
“Go ahead.”
With his small hands, Lucas reached up and covered his ears. Then, his voice, quiet at first, began to sing, “I am Enery the Eighth I am, Enery the Eighth I am I am …” His voice got louder as he kept singing. But
it wasn’t loud enough to drown out my father’s words.
“What do you think, Eli?” His hands moved up to my brother’s throat as he spoke. “Should I choke the life out of him?” His hands moved farther up. “Or just snap his neck. That would be quicker.”
My head went from side to side. “Don’t.” Despite trying to stay calm, the word was a plea. “Please don’t.”
“It’s your choice. I just need that.” His eyes went to the paper in my hand.
Lucas was back at the chorus again, singing louder, a worried look on his face.
“Eli, time to choose.”
I glanced at the paper again, wondering how many of the numbers I could memorize before—
“NOW!”
I jumped. So did Lucas, who stopped singing. He tried to wriggle away from Dad’s grasp, but he couldn’t. “Choose, Eli.”
I could chance it. Lucas was his child, he wouldn’t hurt him. But then I looked into my father’s eyes, only they were no longer my father’s. They belonged to a madman.
Lucas looked up at me and whimpered, his eyes wet.
My knees nearly buckled as I stepped forward, holding out the paper. “Here! Take it! Let him go!”
Dad released Lucas as he reached out for the code and took it from me. “Good choice, son. Very unselfish.” With the paper still in his hand, he gave me a casual salute, then left.
I knelt down in front of Lucas. “Are you okay?”
Lucas nodded as he sniffled. “That was scary.”
My arms went around him and he leaned into me. “I know. I was scared, too.”
My father’s footsteps receded down the hall.
I leaned back, looking into my brother’s face. “But now we have to be brave, okay? We have work to do.”
Lucas wiped his nose with his sleeve. “What kinda work?”
I glanced over at the door. “I’ve gotta figure out some numbers.” I stood back up and took his hand. “Come on.”
I WANTED TO GO CHECK ON MOM, BUT I DIDN’T DARE. I HAD no idea what Dad was planning, and I knew my time was short. My only chance was to figure out the code using the few numbers I remembered. If it could be figured out. I had to try. Getting out was the only true way to help my mother.
Lexie and Terese were with the little kids. Once Lucas and I were inside, I dragged a dresser in front of the door.
Lexie walked over to me and whispered, “What’s going on?”
I glanced at the others, but they seemed occupied. “I had the code, but Dad stopped me.”
“How? He’s too sick.”
“Well, he got better real frickin’ fast.” I lowered my voice. “Threatened to hurt Lucas if I didn’t give him the paper with the code.”
Lexie’s jaw clenched.
“What about Mom?”
“I don’t know. He may be there. He could be anywhere. I have to figure this thing out.”
Lexie frowned. “I thought he took the code back.”
“He did, but I remember a few of the numbers. They have to mean something; it’s just a matter of putting it together.” I glanced over at a kiddie chalkboard. “I need your help.”
With a piece of chalk, I wrote down the few numbers I remembered.
5______5716______89
Lexie stared at the chalkboard. “That’s it? How many numbers in the code total?”
“Way more. At least two dozen.” She breathed out. “Man.”
“Yeah.”
Lexie thought for a bit. “You’re sure about these, though?”
I nodded. “I’m not sure how many numbers in between, but I know these are in the right order. Sort of.”
Terese came over and I told her what we were doing.
“Are they all separate numbers?”
I looked at her. “Why?”
She put a slash on the board.
5______ 57/16_______89
“July sixteenth, that’s your birthday.”
My mouth dropped open.
She shrugged. “Maybe it’s all our birthdays?”
She put some more numbers on the board.
11/17
“That’s Lexie.”
I shook my head. “Those weren’t in it, I’m pretty sure.”
Terese bit her lip. “So it’s not our birthdays.”
As I erased the ones she’d put up, I gazed at the others. So, 7/16 was a date, a date other than my birthday.
5_______57/16_______89
I added more numbers.
5______57/161945______89
Lexie leaned in. “What’s that?”
“Date they set off the atomic bomb at the Trinity test site.”
“Nifty. So what are the rest?”
“Oh my God.” Slowly I erased the slash and filled in other numbers. Then I stepped back to read the result.
5_________57161945861945891945
“Holy crap that’s it.”
Lexie was by my side, looking at the board. “You’ve got it?”
“Part of it.” I pointed. “These are dates of nuclear bomb explosions. Trinity test site, July 16, 1945. Then Hiroshima, August 6, 1945. Nagasaki, August 9, 1945.”
“Wow.” Lexie and Terese spoke together.
I rubbed my eyes. “But that’s not all of it. What else is there?”
Lexie pointed at the first number. “So if they’re all dates, what happened in May?”
“May? Nothing happened in May, they didn’t even …” I trailed off as something flashed in my memory. There had been a test, before July 16. A pretest explosion. It didn’t really count, but could that be it? I wrote in the numbers and hoped I had the date right.
5 7 1 9 4 5 7 1 6 1 9 4 5 8 6 1 9 4 5 8 9 1 9 4 5
I smiled. “It looks right. No way of knowing for sure, but it all looks familiar.”
Terese patted my shoulder. “So that’s it?”
“No. There were more numbers.” Lexie sighed. “Another date?”
“Probably. There were so many other tests, though. Which date is the one?”
Lexie sat down on the floor. “Isn’t this all ironic? That the code is all about nuclear war, the entire reason this place was built?”
I shrugged. “These dates aren’t really about nuclear war per se, because they’re all bombs built by the same country, and a nuclear war would be bombs from at least two countries, which …”
“What?”
My hand went to my mouth. “Lexie, you’re right.”
“What?”
“The last date.” I put in the numbers.
5 7 1 9 4 5 7 1 6 1 9 4 5 8 6 1 9 4 5 8 9 1 9 4 5 8 2 9 1 9 4 9
Terese considered the numbers. “What happened August 29, 1949?”
I smiled. “The first Soviet nuclear detonation.” I looked at Lexie. “There’s your reason for the Compound.” I grabbed a piece of paper and pen, jotted the numbers down, double-checking them three times, then handed them off to Lexie to check as well.
“Do you think that’s it?” Lexie sounded hopeful.
“One way to find out.”
“Can I go?” Lucas stood in front of me.
I set a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, buddy, I need to go fast.”
He stuck out his foot, showing me his cross trainers just like mine. “I can go fast.”
He felt scrawny under my grip. “I’ll come back for you, okay? But now I have to leave.” I shoved aside the dresser. “Lexie, make sure you put this back after I leave.”
She stepped over to me, hesitated, and then gave me a quick hug. “Good luck,” she whispered. “Hurry.”
Again, I found myself running down the hall, into the family room, and through the archway.
This time I didn’t hesitate. My right index finger punched in the numbers. A series of electronic blips sounded. With a loud puff of air, the vacuum seal of the door released. The silver door fell open. Stale air came through.
“Thank you, God.”
I grabbed an edge and pushed the door out of my way. Other than being dusty, the entryway to the
stairs was in pretty much the same condition as I’d last seen it six years before.
It seemed smaller. And dimmer. A lone red emergency light lit the area. There was a fuse box on the wall. I opened it and started flipping switches. One flooded the area with light.
I started to climb the stairs two at a time. All that money and Dad couldn’t invest in an elevator? I suppose he thought about what fifteen years without maintenance would do to the machinery and figured stairs were a better idea.
As I climbed the metal stairs, my footsteps were quiet. I thought they should make more noise. The way down had been so loud and chaotic. Maybe I expected that from the trip back up as well.
After two flights, my breaths came faster. I didn’t remember the trip being so arduous the first time. But this trip I was climbing, not descending.
I found myself thinking of the first rainy day of second grade. I was anxious to wear my new blue slicker with matching boots. As always, Mom drove us, me and Eddy in the middle seats.
We stopped for her coffee at Tully’s, the smell of it filling the SUV as we turned into the school driveway. We sat in a line of other cars as they idled at the entrance and gently ejected their small passengers. Vivaldi played on the radio and the heater blew warm air, pleasantly overheating us.
Waiting our turn, I adjusted my backpack and got a better grip on my blue lunchbox, which held the same thing every day, packed by Els. Peanut butter sandwich, decrusted and cut diagonally into fourths. Minicarrots. A snack bag of chocolate chip cookies. They came with a napkin and a sweet, tender note from my mom, ending always with
ILY Eli! Mommy.
The SUV moved up. We popped open the doors. Mom blew kisses and waved good-bye. We shrieked, jumping boot first into the downpour, ecstatic to be seven years old on a rainy day.
I wanted that again. That security that came from knowing exactly what was in my lunchbox. I wanted that so bad.
At the top of the stairs, I saw the hatch. I didn’t remember it being so wide, but then I basically got shoved down it the first time. There hadn’t been a lot of time for observation. A skinny set of steps ascended and I took them nearly in one leap.
I pushed on the hatch. Didn’t budge. I panicked, thinking maybe Dad had Phil or someone seal us in.