Chapter Twenty-Two

“Calvin, how’d you even end up on this couch?” I wake up to the sun glimmering through the glossy windows, and things feel surreal until my mind catches up with me. What has to be done today.

“Mmfhh?”

“Now now, get offa me,” I mumble, traces of sleep still hanging in my voice.

“Fine! Your hands and feet are all cold anyway,” he mutters dejectedly. I sigh, they always seem to be cold now. Tension, I guess.

“Are we ready to head over to the graveyard? You can handle it Max?”

I can’t tell exactly what time it is, but the library’s empty so it must be somewhat early.

“Yeah, yeah, I can handle it! God, Andy, I never met the guy. Er, I met him once. He was an ass of a father, he’s not worth seeing. You really just need to calm down!” he gasps, and looks down at his knees.

“Okay. Sorry,” I say, drumming my fingertips on lap, trying to wake up. Trying to stop saying stupid things.

“Let’s just get going. But we don’t even know who’s going to be there. Allison could. Your mom could. I mean, she knew Tina pretty well, maybe she knew Wesley? We know Ms. Monster-Maroney’ll be there. We could use some disguises,” Max says, and instantly the idea comes to my head. Whether it’d been that my eyes coincidentally met the toy box or that they were guided there, it didn’t matter.

We won’t get caught, I vow. I’ll make sure it won’t happen.

“Just as I suspected, dress-up. Check the other bin in the kids area. Find the most funeral appropriate stuff and put it on. Quickly, before anyone gets up here,” I announce, rummaging through toys and ratty old clothes. There are even a couple wigs.

“How do I look?” I giggle, gently twirling my finger in the tangled up wig.

“Good. Real good,” Calvin says breathlessly. Max rolls his eyes and makes a gagging noise.

“Is the makeup really necessary?”

“We need to look as different as possible. Besides, we know so many people acquainted with Wesley, enough to be at the funeral, and if we got recognized I just don’t know what’d happen,” I explain. “Now get digging for some stuff! We’ll leave our old clothes in here, even it out for the rest of the kids.”

When my eyes meet Calvin’s, I can’t help but burst into an uncontrollable laughter. His eyebrows tug together and when his lower lip trembles, I try to contain myself.

“Why do I have to be the girl, Max?!” he growls.

“No, no, it looks…great,” I say. “Anyway Max isn’t hot stuff either. And you’re the one that wouldn’t get caught, no one will know it’s you.”

“You kidding, Andy? I look just like our handsome friend Calvin here in my ginger hair and snooty suit,” he gives his best impression of someone that’s nothing like Calvin and mutters some swears when I don’t respond to it well.

“Oh relax, boys. We’ve got a funeral to crash.”

The light, joking mood doesn’t last. Right when we reach the graveyard, there’s this tingling feeling in my stomach, in my eyes and I might cry. Tragically, ironically, it’s one of Twinbrook’s rare sunny days. The day of a funeral.

But now isn’t emotional time. We need to spy, extract information, figure out this mess of family ties gone awry and gossip gone murderous. I scan the crowd from behind my dead tree, itching the wig around my scalp every couple of seconds.

The pastor is making some scripted speech that has nothing to do with Wesley, at least personally. ‘A father, a husband, a dedicated worker’ and all of that. Hardly a father, a cheating husband, a guy that worked at a laundromat, you mean. He’d seemed so nice when I met him, now that he was dead I truly saw who he was, an obstacle for Tina and just plain hurting everyone else.

Nobody listens except for Carolyn. In fact, she’s listening so intently it’s as if she’s trying to keep her mind off of other things, or her eyes off of other things. Every couple of seconds her eyes shift to a man slinking around in the back.

Ms. Maroney and Mr. Oliveri do their regular thing, ignoring the elephant in the room – the coffin right in front of them. It’s just sort of disrespectful, I guess. That they’d do it in the setting, like they’re only attending the funeral on principle.

I suppose it makes sense that Allison’s here, too. She was Tina’s best friend, however many conflicts they had. Her and Wesley must have known each other when he would rendezvous with Tina at The Red.

There’s my mother, too. She tries too hard to keep her eyes off of her father and unsuccessfully comforts Allison.

She’s so pretty, I can hardly believe she’s my mom. Once again, I get the urge to run into her arms and hug her, desperately trying to make up for lost years. It’s not worth it, giving yourself up, I tell myself.

Finally, the last member of this odd funeral lingers far away from everyone, the one Carolyn keeps sneaking looks at. He hides his face as much as he can, but I know him from the night before.

It’s Ian.

Although none of his kids are missing, although I can’t think of any reason he’d be here, Ian is the only person who looks genuinely upset. His eyes are bagged and red and he takes quick breaths of air.

“Calvin,” I turn to him, “I need you to find out why Ian’s here. He knows me, and you’re the one that looks the most…radically different.”

“I’m on it,” he smiles, shaking the wig around. “And I’ll be careful.”

“That should’ve been implied,” I grin and send him off, holding my breath.

He plays the part perfectly, sobbing a little and manipulating Ian to feel awkward enough to excuse himself from the conversation.

Oh so cleverly, he takes a long way around the pond to meet back with us.

“So Andy, he said he didn’t know him much, actually,” Calvin says curiously, like he’s asking me the question.

“What? But he’s all teary! He looks awful.”

“Yeah, he said sometimes he ‘goes to funerals.’ He feels bad is what he told me.”

“That’s too weird,” I mutter in a faraway voice. People don’t just do that, and not ‘badass’ Ian. Anyone but him.

All of a sudden, Calvin starts squeaking, “Cadence is leaving the site, someone needs to go try and squeeze her for info.”

“Not me, she knows my face,” I say quickly, passing the job over to Max.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” he says smoothly, without a hitch in his voice.

The look on her face makes my head spin. What did Max ask her?!

But he doesn’t take the long way. He doesn’t even come back.

Shoot, no, MAX! The little voice in the back of my throat wants to scream for him but I have to stay silent.

Max, come back! You still look the same. You’re going to get caught. You can’t handle it.

The hushed panic comes immediately when Allison’s eyes lock on to Max’s. I can’t breathe. She knows; does he know she knows?

“Why is he -?” Calvin begins, but I jerk my head toward him.

“Don’t say a word. We may have to make a run for it.”

“What the hell, Max?!”

“No…”

We have no choice, we have to go. Without him. God, Max, why do you have to make things so hard?

“Come on, Calvin. Hide. Now.”

We take one last glance at Max, who catches my eye for one second and shakily nods. My stomach churns. I don’t know what to feel, what to do now. Just to get out of here before we get caught.

Conveniently, there’s one place we’ll be able to get lost in, hide ourselves in. The mausoleum.

My hands are colder than ever, sweaty, clammy, every unattractive detail you can name, I’ve got it. Panic stricken, freaking out, heart pounding, head spinning – I’m too young for this. That thought had never crossed my mind, that I shouldn’t be doing this. Now all I’m doing is questioning myself.

Max is getting punished now. He’s going to be questioned about you and Calvin. There are consequences Andy, this isn’t just one big fun treasure hunt. This is murder. Allison’s not even off the list.

I lock the doors shut and lay on the cold, dirt floor that sticks to my sweaty hands and begin to cry. I want to go home and sleep in a bed. This is too much, too much guilt on my part, too much responsibility. Calvin does his best to console me, gingerly wrapping his arms around me but it doesn’t do anything. He’s shaking, too. We’re both just one big mess.

Just as suspected, when night falls and we deem it safe to come out, everyone is gone. Max is gone. We’re down one, the actual brave member of our team is here no more, probably locked up with one of the last three suspects. Carolyn, Sanchez, Allison. Even Sanchez is slowly fading from my mind, I get the feeling I’d let my petty grudge get a hold of me while we were making the list.

For the first time all summer, no plan comes to my mind. I’ve been run ragged, just a little ten-year-old girl with too much to handle.