Mayhem Read online

Page 19


  I feel heat all up and down my legs.

  “Stay with me. Stay with me, Jason,” I say. “Stay.” I kiss him again.

  And then I take from him, a little at a time, breathing in as we kiss. He moans and it’s almost a whimper. I take his pain, his memories, his stories, his regrets, his wishes, his desires, and I use them to fill me up.

  He grunts, low, and for a second I think I’m hurting him.

  I stop and look at him, all the way into his eyes, making sure it’s what he wants.

  “More,” he pleads, and pulls me back down to him.

  THIRTY-ONE

  GRATITUDE

  “May.” Roxy is standing over me, and my first instinct is to feel around the bed for Jason, but I come up empty. I don’t know when he left, but he’s not here.

  My second instinct is to cover my naked torso. Roxy is in sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt. She looks like she’s swimming in it. The last conversation we had in the video store echoes, and I am flooded with guilt. I was cruel. I think I was cruel to her, and now she looks like she hasn’t eaten or slept.

  I point to the shirt on the floor. “Please.”

  She throws it to me, looks away as I slip it on.

  I check the clock. Lyle still isn’t here. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Lyle isn’t coming after all.

  “Are you okay, Cookie?” Roxy’s voice is steady enough to stop me. She looks tired but like herself. I mean her actual self. No extra jitters. No slurs or droopy eyes.

  “I’m fine,” I say.

  “Anything you want to tell me?”

  So much.

  I shake my head no.

  I wouldn’t know where to begin.

  Murder? Love? The fate of my everlasting immortal soul?

  “Okay, why don’t I start?” she says.

  “Go ahead.”

  “It’s all over the news,” she says, settling down next to me. “Boner had to leave this morning at the crack of dawn to get to the crime scene. When the lifeguard crew came on at six, they found him. The Sand Snatcher.”

  Last night comes flooding back in a sickening cascade of desire and guilt, and I bring my knees to my chest. So much happened. I lived ten lives.

  Roxy strokes my head. “So are you all right? It was you, wasn’t it? Who did that to him?”

  “Yes.” A little heaviness lifts.

  “And how was it?” Her eyes search mine. I wonder if she’s looking for permanent changes, for signs of damage.

  “I liked it.” My voice trembles at the edge of tears. “A lot.”

  Roxy pulls me against her. I wind my fingers into the fabric of her shirt like I used to when I was little and for the first time in so long.

  “After my first time I felt like a superhero,” she says. “I felt like I was on a mission, like I understood my purpose. Elle was the reasonable one, the one with all the moral quandaries. I didn’t want to hear about any of it. I wish I had listened.”

  Roxy is actually talking to me. She isn’t mumbling or whispering or laughing it off or speaking in code.

  Maybe she can listen, too.

  “I don’t want to hate what I am,” I venture, “but how can I be okay with it? How is it okay to make a decision about whether someone lives or dies? I mean, that guy, he was doing such terrible things, but still … how do you know if it’s right?”

  “I don’t know. I only know you have to stay close to your heart and your own truth. It’s okay to learn from other people with more experience, but in the end, you have to build trust with yourself.”

  I lean back so I can see her.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she says. “I betrayed myself by leaving. Smothered myself. You, Mayhem. I smothered you. I haven’t listened for years. I think it might have cost your dad his life.” She makes a sipping sound, like some pain has taken her by surprise. “I … I don’t want you to hate who you are. You shouldn’t. We’re warriors, and that’s a good thing.”

  “Crows,” I say, because I can feel my wings spreading out behind me. “We’re crows.”

  “Yeah,” she says. “We’re that, too. Not far from it, anyway. Just pay attention and you’ll be fine. You’ve always been fine in spite of me. But promise me, if you find yourself not knowing what to do, promise you’ll follow your gut and not the water. You know better than it, because it is a thing with a desire. Understand?”

  “Not really,” I say, and we both laugh.

  “May.” My mother takes both my hands in hers. “I am so sorry. About everything. You’re right about me not listening. You were always right about Lyle. I’m so sorry I called him. I just thought of him worrying about us, and for some crazy reason I thought maybe if I told him my decision was final, he would leave us alone. If I hadn’t been so buzzed I would have known that wasn’t right. I’m sorry you had to talk to him. You shouldn’t ever have to talk to him again.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve been making you feel bad,” I say.

  “No, that’s normal. Of course you’re mad at me. I would be mad at me, too.” She takes a deep breath and exhales shakily. “Listen, sweetheart, I’m taking a couple days off work. I need your help. I’ve made a decision, and I talked to Elle and Marcy about it. You were right about what you said at Marcy’s. I’m going to detox from my pain pills and the Valium and the booze. It’s going to take me a couple days just for the first part, and it’s going to hurt, but it’s time. I’ve been weaning myself this week, but it’s still going to be brutal and ugly. I have all these decisions to make and I can’t get my head clear.” She rubs my back. “I can’t even properly talk to you about what’s going on until I do. I know we’ve been having a real hard time lately, and I’ve been so out of it I haven’t even been there for you.” She fingers my necklace, letting the silver hang heavy in her palm. “I know what this means. But I’ve got you, and I’ve got a brand-new job and someone I might actually like. We’ve got to get you ready for your junior year.” She inhales heavily. “And mostly, I have to wake up. I’ve been asleep a long time. Too long.” She pauses. “I took my last pill this morning.” She leans over to fish three empty prescription bottles from her bag, clear brown with the letters Rx in brown across the top right-hand corner. “It’s a little tricky. I’ve been trying to take it slow so it won’t be dangerous. I don’t want to go to the hospital. I want to be here, where it started. That probably doesn’t make sense to you…”

  “It does,” I say.

  “I would have had to find a new doc here anyway, one who wasn’t Lyle’s best buddy, and it would have been hard to justify. And the booze … just makes me feel terrible.” She scoots closer to me, and I lean my head on her shoulder. “And then there’s you, May. You deserve a mother. I’m scared, but I know I have to do it, even if it means seeing again.”

  I tap her toes with mine. “You seem fine right now.”

  “Well, you know what they say. A junkie’s okay until she runs out.”

  Junkie. I’d never heard her say the word.

  “I’ll take care of you.” I curl my toes around hers. I can hardly tell whose feet are whose. “You won’t be alone.”

  “You’re right,” she says. “I won’t be alone. Elle will do it. I’ve been through something like this before, and trust me when I tell you it gets awful. I’m proud of you and I’m worried about you. It’s my responsibility to educate you. That shouldn’t be all Elle. I do know some things, and nothing is going to change until I do this.”

  I feel how afraid she is, but she’s also sturdier than I’ve ever seen her. Almost like I could be the one going to her for comfort.

  Neve bounds into the room in a leather skirt and lace shirt. “Come downstairs,” she says. Then she stops. “Oh, did I interrupt a mother-daughter moment?”

  “We were done,” Roxy says, tightening.

  She doesn’t like Neve, I realize.

  “No, no, it’s cute!” Neve says. “Keep on loving each other.”

  “What’s going on, Neve? Just tell us,” I say.<
br />
  “If you really want to know, you’re going to have to come down!”

  Roxy follows behind as we head for the living room, where Elle, Jason, and Kidd are gathered around the old brown radio. I can tell something is really wrong. Elle’s face is pale and stern.

  The man’s voice booms from the speaker by the table. “The sometime lifeguard was found on his chair with the word ‘murderer’ scrawled across his naked chest in his own blood. A search of his home has revealed belongings missing from each of the victims, trophies. Based on evidence, it is believed that all five of the missing girls are deceased and that he may be responsible for cold cases in his home state of Wisconsin. It is a sad day for the families and friends of these victims, and our thoughts and prayers are with them. In the meantime, the question remains, who is the vigilante who took it upon himself to rid Santa Maria of its Sand Snatcher? For now, the town is preparing for the next steps as its citizens attempt to recover from a truly unusual summer.”

  “Kidd, I’d like you to go upstairs,” Elle says, muting the radio. She’s in a pair of overalls and a sun hat and is still holding a trowel.

  Kidd frowns. “But I don’t—”

  “Kidd,” Jason says.

  “Oh my gosh! Fine!” She stomps off, stopping only to glare at us from the top of the stairs.

  When Kidd’s gone, Elle says, “Who did it?” She searches the room for an answer.

  I personally don’t know. Jason shrugs. When we left Kurt Sand Snatcher, he was on the sidewalk. His body would have shown he had died of a heart attack if someone hadn’t defiled his corpse.

  “We didn’t,” I say, “I swear. We came right back here like you said.”

  I took a shower and tried to go to bed. I read the journal. Then, Jason. I wasn’t drawing on a dead man’s body in blood, that’s for sure.

  “All of you?” she says. “All of you came back here?”

  The room freezes. I feel guilty even though I didn’t do anything.

  Well.

  I didn’t do anything I wasn’t supposed to do.

  “Fine.” Neve is sprawled on the chaise lounge, her knee-high boots kicked up. “I did it, okay.”

  “When?” I say. She’s keeping secrets?

  “More importantly, why?” Elle lurches toward Neve. “Why would you ever do something like that? Why would you put us in that position, expose us?”

  “She’s not a Brayburn, Elle,” Roxy says. “You know damn well what’s coming. She’s not right in the head.”

  “Oh, you mean that dumb shit about non-Brayburns going crazy when they drink the water?” Neve says. “That’s just a bunch of bullshit your family has spread so you can control this town. But it’s not true.”

  “Watch the way you talk to my sister,” Elle says. “And mind your manners in my house.”

  “Watch the way you talk to me,” Neve counters. “And mind your manners. I’m getting sick of everything being under the surface, of hiding and keeping up appearances and getting fruit baskets at the gate in return. Don’t you get how pathetic that is? Don’t you think it would be a lot more effective if these pieces of garbage knew they weren’t going to get away with this shit, for them to know someone’s watching them?”

  “Neve, this isn’t how we do things,” Elle says softly. “We do them neatly.”

  Neve bristles. Elle has made a mistake trying to calm her this way. Even I know Neve well enough to know she’s not going to respond to someone trying to take her in hand.

  “No, Elle, it’s not,” Neve says, imitating Elle’s measured tone. “It’s justice served warm instead of after thirty years on death row. And California doesn’t even have the death penalty. That guy got exactly what he deserved.”

  “Be that as it may, I want you to stop. You can stay home from now on, or at least until you can get yourself under control.”

  “Wait … you’re grounding me from murdering people?”

  Elle flinches.

  “Oh, I see. You don’t like to think of it that way.” Neve steps on a footstool. “Well, what if I told you I’ve figured out a way to make this little system of yours better? I’ve improved.”

  “What do you mean?” Elle’s gone pale. She steadies herself on a chair.

  “I’m not telling you yet, if I ever do. You’re going to have to stop treating me like I’m an inferior moron just because I’m not a Brayburn,” Neve says.

  “Oh, Neve. That is not where I’m coming from at all,” Elle says. “I appreciate the job you’ve done, but you’re putting yourself and all of us in danger. I just hope you didn’t leave any evidence behind. This is how we’ve survived so many generations here with almost no incident. We don’t need you to improve our system. It works fine as it is.”

  “If you don’t count Lucas and everything that happened with Marcy and Boner,” Roxy says. “Or Granny’s friend Karen.”

  “The curfew is going to be lifted now, because they know who he is,” Neve says. “Everyone can get back to regular business. How long would that have taken if I hadn’t made it easy for them? And what about the families? Maybe they wouldn’t have found the secret compartment in his place if they hadn’t been searching for evidence. Maybe the families of the two girls they haven’t found yet would always have been wondering. Don’t you see this was the right thing to do?”

  “You didn’t ask,” Jason says, finally speaking up. “You didn’t tell anyone else. You didn’t make sure we were all okay with your decision. You acted unilaterally. You did what you wanted to do.”

  “Well, it wasn’t like I could consult you while you were rolling in the sheets with Mayhem, right?”

  “Hey,” Jason says, taking a step toward her.

  She steps back and folds her arms.

  “It’s time for you to take a break. We never know how the water will react to a person. It’s not doing well with your system.” Elle reaches for Neve, but she shoves Elle’s arm away.

  “Well, maybe this isn’t the place for me anymore, then,” Neve says. “Maybe I don’t want to follow those rules.”

  The room is suddenly quiet.

  “Neve,” Elle says, “it’s possible the water is affecting your ability to process clearly. I just want you to take a minute to let us think about what we want to do moving forward. You might be fine if you stop now.”

  “Yeah, right,” Neve says. “Your family may have started this, but you are all a bunch of nerds at heart.” She glares at me. “You can keep your precious fucking Brayburns. I don’t want them anymore.”

  There’s a whoosh, and then she’s gone so silently and decidedly, it’s as though she was never there.

  “It’s not her,” I say to the room, trying to fill the void. “It’s the water. It’s making her crazy, making her do things. The journal said—”

  “I know what it says. I’m sorry. I think I need to go lie down. You did a great job, all of you, really. The town is safer for it.” Jason helps Elle up the stairs. She stops and looks back. “I didn’t know you would ever come back,” Elle says to Roxy. “I wanted a family. They had already had the water. They had already found the cave. Did I do the wrong thing?”

  Jason slumps miserably, still holding her by the elbow like she’s an old woman.

  “Shit,” Roxy says, fishing in her pack for a smoke. “I don’t know a thing about right and wrong, honey. I wish Mama was here now.”

  “Me, too,” Elle says. “She would know just what to do.”

  “I know. She would, Ellie. She would.”

  Elle disappears up the stairs, Jason supporting her.

  “I’m going to stop taking it.” I lift the necklace from around my neck and put it in Roxy’s hand, fold my own over hers. “Take the necklace. It’s okay. I can be sick and get through it. We can do it together. I’ll get off the water and you’ll get off your pills and then we can figure out what we’re going to do.”

  Roxy touches the side of my face and looks at me mournfully. “Oh, Cookie, I wish I had done better. I w
ish I had explained it all to you instead of trying to pretend it wasn’t there. Elle promised to leave you out of it, and I believed her.”

  “It wasn’t her. It was me. Now I’m going to make another choice.”

  She squeezes my hand. “It’s too late. It’s not going to go away. Quite the opposite, baby. When a Brayburn stops taking the water, that’s when things really get cooking.” She leans her head against the wall. “Mayhem, the water likes the Brayburn cells. It will never leave you now. I didn’t have water for thirteen years, and it never stopped trying to get me back here. It never stopped twisting my guts to get its way. I stopped seeing because I was away from Santa Maria. I was almost normal, but I was sick, always. I was weak. I don’t want that for you.”

  “And what about my friends? Jason? Kidd? Neve? Elle made a journal. It says how people who aren’t Brayburns go crazy when they have the water. What happens to them now?”

  “The water will kill them if they keep taking it,” Roxy says. “Most probably, anyway. I suppose there’s always a chance it will go another way, but it doesn’t seem likely, not the way Neve is acting.”

  “Is that what happened to my father?”

  She grimaces and sits in the golden velvet chair, so she appears even smaller than usual.

  “Roxy. Mom, just tell me. I know he didn’t fall. I know he jumped. Elle kept your letter to your mom.”

  She massages her temple for a second, then nods.

  “I should never have told him about it, but we shared everything. I didn’t want to keep a secret that big from him. I felt like I was lying to him. My mother, my grandmother, they were able to keep everything separate from their husbands, but not me. I’m too romantic for that. In my mind, marriage meant sharing everything. So I showed him.” She seems so tired from holding it in. “He was fine for a while. He liked being able to see who was made up of more good than bad. But then it started to make him crazy. I knew. I knew that he couldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to do the job. The ugly part of the job. He was a lover, you know? He loved birds and cats and women and standing outside on a warm night just to listen to the world hum along. He was not one to look under rocks.” She sniffles. “That’s why we left, May. Your dad thought he was immortal. At the end he thought a lot of things. He thought he could survive that fall. After he was gone, I couldn’t be here anymore. I didn’t want that for you, and it was only a matter of time even if I did everything I could to keep you from it. Elle was furious, of course. Taking the heir when she couldn’t have babies. I was selfish, unfair. Keeping you from the rest of the family.”