Zen and Xander Undone

  For the first time in my entire life, I am ashamed of my sister. She is turning into a loser, and she isn’t doing anything to stop herself.

  “Oh. Just a sec,” Xander says, and stumbles over to lean on a tree while she throws up. She sounds like an animal. “There went my birthday cake,” she slurs. She’s trying to be funny, but no one laughs, except Margot, who doubles over and stumbles into Topher, who seems only too willing to catch her.

  “So, this is a great party,” Paul says, and takes a tiny sip of vile wine. I’m sipping beer, but I don’t like the taste of it. I’m not even sure I should be drinking alcohol with all the Motrin I’ve been taking. I probably shouldn’t even be here. My back is aching, and I want to go home, but Adam is our ride and he isn’t showing any signs of letting up his watch over Xander.

  I look around at the other people here. There are about a dozen pickup trucks parked around the gravel pit. We must be somewhere near the quarry in Barre, and we’re surrounded by mountains of white sand piled high. There are ghosts of dump trucks parked in the shadows, and I can’t help imagining sinister men behind the wheels, watching us.

  I don’t know any of the other people here, but they all seem to know Xander. Judging from the girls, this must be where she gets her recent fashion sense. They’re all wearing ripped jeans that are too tight, and skimpy tank tops without bras, and studded belts, and ankle boots or platform sandals. They look to be in high school, but there’s something used up about them, like they’ve already done too much living.

  Xander stumbles over to us, a stupid smile on her face. “Hey, guys. Having fun?”

  “Sure,” Paul says. He’s trying to sound sincere for my sake, but I can tell he’s as nervous about being here as I am.

  “How much longer do you plan to stay?” I ask Xander.

  “It’s my birthday” is all she says, and she weaves away, kicking up gravel. She turns her ankle and almost falls over, but Frank catches her.

  “I don’t like this,” Adam says.

  Another pickup drives up. The heavy beat of a bass guitar vibrates through its metal as it parks right in front of us. People shout hello, and flock over to it. From the driver’s seat emerges a short man with a slant of brown hair on his head. He’s wearing a denim jacket, and his jeans look two sizes too big for him. There’s a huge smile on his face, and he shouts, “Who wants to get happy!” People crowd around him, and he starts taking money with one hand and handing out tiny paper envelopes with the other.

  “Oh, shit,” Adam says.

  “What is that?” Paul asks me. He’s scared now.

  He’s going to think I’m some kind of horrible, drug-abusing slut-cake. “Paul, I’ve never been to a party like this in my life.”

  “Your sister has.”

  I follow his gaze to see Xander triumphantly walking away from the circle of people, holding one of the envelopes.

  I bolt off the log, but I don’t get to her as quickly as Adam does. He pulls her by the elbow away from the glare of headlights, leaning close to her, speaking soft and vicious. “What the hell is that?”

  “It’s fine!” Xander yells, and jerks her arm out of his grip.

  “What’s going on here?” Frank says to Adam as he slicks a hand over his oily black hair, like he’s some authority figure and Adam is some abuser of women. He must think backwards like this all the time. “Let go of her.”

  Adam ignores him. “Just stop, okay, Xander? Stop and take a look at what you’re doing!”

  “Oh god, what a cliché!” She throws back her head and laughs like she’s howling at the moon.

  “Xander,” I say. I advance toward her. “If you take whatever’s in that envelope, I swear to you, I’ll tell Dad.”

  This sobers her up. “Don’t you dare, you little—”

  “She’s right.” I turn to see that Margot is standing right behind me, her hands on her hips. “You told me, you promised me, you’d never try that stuff again, Xander.”

  I never expected this. I thought Margot was the one pulling Xander into her spiral, but now I see maybe it’s the other way around. Topher is standing next to Margot uncertainly, watching the scene, his pretty blue eyes scrunched in confusion. He looks at Frank like he needs a cue about how to act. When he sees the deadly steel in Frank’s eyes, he hardens up too.

  I look at Paul, who has stood up from the log and is watching the scene warily. He glances at me, and his eyes tell me that whatever happens, he’ll back me up.

  I really like that guy.

  “Let’s just go, okay?” Adam pulls on Xander’s arm again.

  Xander yells, “No!” just as Frank steps forward and says through his teeth, “I said let go of her.”

  Frank throws down the beer bong angrily and it cracks against the gravel.

  The party goes quiet.

  I feel a dull sting in my palm and realize that I’ve been standing in strike pose, fists clenched, my fingernails digging into my skin.

  Suddenly Adam wraps his arms around Xander, and he’s nuzzling her hair, whispering at her. “Please don’t do this. Please, Xander. You’ve got to come back to us. Please?”

  He leans his head down on her shoulder and rests it there.

  Her voice is cold crystal shards. “Why are you crying?”

  Adam lifts his head and looks in her eyes. “My god, Xander. Why aren’t you?”

  Her whole body jerks straight as a lightning rod, and for a second all she can do is look at him. Her mouth is open, her eyes defensive, her hands working into fists and out again as she tries to think of what to say. Finally she scoffs and pulls away from him.

  Adam points at the envelope she’s holding. “Xander, this isn’t you.”

  “It’s just X, Adam,” she says weakly.

  “Come home, Xander,” he says. He takes a careful step toward her and gently works the envelope from between her fingers and drops it on the ground.

  I glance at Frank, who doesn’t seem to understand anything about what Adam is doing. “Listen,” he says, “she doesn’t want to go home,” like he’s defending her rights.

  “Oh, shut up, Frank,” she says. “You don’t know what I want.” She casts a shameful look at Margot, who is staring at the ground. Margot can’t have missed Frank’s possessiveness over Xander, and she must understand what it means.

  Xander’s eyes travel all around, and her face changes.

  Everyone is watching us.

  I forgot they were even here.

  The guy who came with the ecstasy takes a few short steps toward us. “Hey, there’s no need to cause a stink about this.”

  Adam walks right by him, pulling on Xander, who finally starts to follow him, her head down, face looking confused. “Let’s go.”

  “I said let the girl go.” Frank squares himself against Adam, a threat in his eyes.

  “It’s fine, Frank,” Xander says, resigned. “Leave it.”

  “No. This guy shouldn’t be pushing you around.”

  “He’s not,” I hear Paul say, and turn to see him reaching a hand toward Frank to try to reason with him. Everything about Paul is cool and calm, but he’s tall, much taller than Frank, who takes a step back from him. He doesn’t understand what Paul is trying to do. Paul takes another step toward Frank, and another. “Adam just wants—”

  Out of nowhere, Frank’s fist shoots into Paul’s face, and suddenly Paul is sprawled flat on the ground, dazed.

  I’m aiming my foot at Frank’s chest before I even register how mad I am. And I am mad. All the pain and frustration and rage of the past year courses through me as I fly through the air toward Frank. When my foot crashes into him, it feels so good, I have to smile.

  He falls down so easily underneath me, it’s almost like I’m dreaming about this. Before he can catch his breath, I’m in strike pose again, and I stand over him, ignoring my screaming back, my foot poised directly above his larynx. “Adam, get the car,” I say.

  Then I’m grabbed from behind.

 
“What do you think you’re doing to my friend?” I hear the words spat into my ear. The breath is warm and harsh.

  “Leave her alone!” Margot screams.

  I try to drop down as I’ve been trained to do, Release from Bear Hug, but my back is twisting and pulling apart, and no matter how I move I can’t relieve the pressure on my spine. I make myself breathe steadily, and from the corner of my eye I see who’s holding me.

  It’s Topher, the meek little farm boy. He’s holding me like they hold calves when they’re branding them. He tightens his grip and I scream.

  It hurts so much. “Please. My back” is all I can say.

  “Let her go,” I hear Xander growl. I’ve never heard her sound so dangerous.

  “Did you see what she did to Frank?” he says, his voice cracking like a little boy’s.

  “Please. You’re hurting me,” I whimper.

  I’ve never felt like this.

  I’ve never been helpless.

  His arms clamp together even harder.

  I cry out. Tubes of pain stretch and twist all through my spine. It’s a deep, terrible sting, like Mom said.

  “Just relax,” Mom whispers at me. “He doesn’t want to hurt you.”

  “Let her go,” Xander says, “or I swear to Christ I’ll kill you.”

  She says it calmly, like she’s stating a simple fact. I glance at her, and I see she’s holding a rock in her fist.

  For the first time, his grip loosens a little. The small motion sends diamonds of pain all through me.

  I hear a footstep behind, and suddenly I’m dropped to the ground. I roll over on my back and look up to see Adam and Topher struggling with each other. Adam’s arm is wrapped around Topher’s neck, and they’re both red-faced and ugly. I want to help. I should help, but I can’t move.

  Topher can’t get out of Adam’s grip, so he rakes his fingernails down Adam’s arm. Adam screams, and then I see a rising dark shape, and I’m so scared, because I think it’s Frank, but then I see shiny hair. It’s Paul. He’s walking toward the both of them, and he’s speaking very softly, his hands held out in front of him. “Calm down, guys. Okay? Just calm down.”

  Both of them are looking at him, breathing hard.

  “Topher. How about this?” Paul’s voice is perfectly steady, but I can see his fingertips are quaking like leaves on a tree. “How about if you nod, it means that when Adam lets you go, you let us walk away. We’ll leave. And we won’t come back. And nobody has to go to the hospital tonight, or explain anything to the cops. Okay? Does that work for you?”

  All the innocent farm-boy looks are gone from Topher. He’s raging, breathing so hard that snot is flying from his nose, spit from his mouth. His eyes are hooded and furious, like a dog’s.

  I hear a shuffle to my left, and I move my head to see that Frank is trying to get up. This sends a jolt of fear through me, and I pull myself up to lean against Margot. “I gotcha,” she says. Frank eyes me as he rubs his chest, half sitting up and leaning on his elbow.

  “Adam,” Paul says, “maybe Topher can’t nod because you’re holding his head too tight. How about you loosen up a little so he can nod his head, and we can all communicate, okay?”

  Adam’s eyes are cold, but I can see he’s thinking, reasoning through this. He sees Paul is right. There’s only one way out of this that doesn’t end with jail, or worse. “Okay.” I can’t see a change in the way he’s holding Topher, but Topher feels the change because suddenly he’s taking in huge gulps of air.

  “Okay. So Topher?” Paul waits until Topher looks him in the eye, and then he continues. “So you’re going to let us walk away, right? When Adam lets you go?”

  He seems to think about it for a second. Then he nods once.

  “Okay. I’m going to count to three, and that’s when you let him go, Adam. One.”

  Topher shifts his feet.

  Two.

  Adam braces himself with his legs.

  “Three.”

  Adam lets go of Topher.

  Topher breaks Adam’s nose with the heel of his hand.

  A scream peals through the night, and Xander is running to Adam, who has dropped to his knees, his head lolling. She runs to him, kneels by him, takes his hand. She whispers, “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

  Topher walks calmly over to the keg, pumps out two cups of beer, and brings one over to Frank, who is sitting all the way up now.

  “Can you walk?” Paul says, and cups his hand to my face. “Can you get to the car?”

  “I’ll bring it around,” Margot says. She shifts me over to lean against Paul, then jogs to Adam and Xander and gets the keys, jogs away.

  A couple people from the party, including the guy who brought the ecstasy, come over to me and Paul. “She going to be all right?”

  I want to shrug it off. I don’t like people looking at me like this. But I can’t speak because it’s all hitting me. How crazy Xander is. How dangerous these people are. How badly Adam and I are hurt. How gone Mom is. I want my mom.

  “I don’t know,” I hear Paul say. He rubs my back, presses his lips to my forehead, breathes into my hair.

  Adam’s car pulls up. Paul and the drug dealer hook their hands under my armpits, and slowly, gently, they raise me to my feet. Standing hurts a whole lot less than lying down. They lower me slowly into the back seat, then Xander brings Adam and lowers him in next to me. His eyes are screwed closed. His nose is crooked and bleeding, and it’s clear he’s hurting, but he’ll be fine. Paul gets in the passenger seat, Margot takes the wheel, and Xander gets in behind Margot. It seems like we’re almost away, but then the worst possible thing happens.

  Frank leans into the driver’s side window and gives me a vicious glare. “I’m not finished with you, little girl.”

  I’m terrified, until Margot reaches into Frank’s mouth with one clawed finger and hooks his cheek so that he has to look at her. “I’m finished with you, Frank. And if you come after anyone in this car, I’ll slap you with a statutory rape charge so fast, your head will spin.” His face slackens, and he holds his hands up in surrender. He’s trying to put a mocking expression on his face, but I can tell what Margot said shook him up. She hits the window control so that it rolls up, almost catching Frank’s cheek with it before she lets it go.

  “Sweetie,” Frank pleads through the glass. “There’s no need to get crazy.” He’s working hard to sound calm and steady, but there’s such a look of fear in his eyes, I can see him for what he really is—a loser who can’t get a woman his own age. Suddenly he’s not so scary. “I lost my temper, that’s all. I wouldn’t hurt her! Don’t go to the cops, okay, honey?”

  “I mean it!” Margot snaps. “Stay away from us, or I’ll throw the book at you!”

  Just before we drive away between the sheltering mounds of rock, I hear the drug dealer ask Frank, incredulous, “You had sex with that little girl?”

  The Aftermath

  WE GET A LOT OF SPEECHES.

  Dad, standing over the three of us as we shrink into the sofa: “A black belt in shotokan is not a license to start fights! And you, Xander! You have everything going for you. A full ride to Caltech. And here you are, risking everything on a tablet of ecstasy! My god, what have you become!”

  Nancy pacing the porch while we sit in her rickety swing: “What were you kids doing at a party like that? In the middle of nowhere? Drugs? Booze? Have you seen Adam’s face lately? He looks like he got stepped on by a moose!”

  Grandma on the phone: “You’re children, the both of you! When I was your age, I was learning to crochet doilies with my girlfriends! We danced in the basement to old seventy-eights! We were innocent! You can never get that back! Never!”

  Aunt Doris on the phone: “At least marijuana is natural. You can even grow it yourself. But those designer drugs are dangerous! Just one mistake in the lab, and suddenly your brains are scrambled eggs! Oh, I should have hidden my stash better! This is all my fault!”

  After the speeches,
everyone took a break from one another for a few days. Dad went back to hide in the basement, though I hear him outside our bedroom doors a lot more often. He’s been knocking, and calling tersely, “You in there?” We always answer yes, and he always says, “Good. Because you’re still grounded.”

  I hear Xander going to the bathroom and then back to her room. She doesn’t even play her stereo. I hear her tapping on her keyboard a lot, though.

  I’ve been flat on my back for almost a week. Now my back is sprained in two places instead of just one. I’m under orders to get up and walk around once every hour, and I do, but the first few steps feel like I’m getting sprained all over again. It’s awful to be hurt. It’s awful to know that the person who did it is out there, and he probably isn’t even sorry.

  I have nightmares about being held down. Something is behind me, twisting my body, and I can’t see what it is, but I can feel its strength. I wake up breathing hard, my throat dry and my sheets soggy. It isn’t an easy thing to get over feeling helpless.

  I hear a tap on my door, and it swings open to reveal Xander. She has her hair in two braids pinned to the top of her head, and she’s wearing Mom’s old overalls and a black T-shirt. It’s a shock to see her like this, because she looks like she did a year ago, before Mom died. She looks like the old Xander.

  Maybe it was a good thing Adam wanted to go to that party after all.

  “Hey,” she says, and smiles wanly. “How’s your back?”

  “It’s getting better.”

  She comes in and sits at the foot of my bed. “Have you talked to Adam lately?”

  “No. You haven’t?”

  She shakes her head. There’s a weak look in her eyes, and I realize she’s too ashamed to call him. “I saw Nancy weeding her flower bed yesterday, and she says his black eyes are almost gone and the swelling is much better.”