Indelible. Dawn Metcalf

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      CHAPTER TWO

      JOY GAVE THE same statement for the third time, bundled in a sweatshirt and her tea growing cold. She kept forgetting to drink it. She held the mug in her hands, letting the warmth seep in. She said she’d seen a “monster face” at the window and had thrown the flashlight at it, but decided not to mention the words written in light. She remembered hearing stories of her great-grandmother seeing things, and they’d ended up putting her in an asylum. The idea of being crazy had haunted Joy throughout her childhood.

      “Could’ve been a prank,” the officer said. “Someone wearing a Halloween mask. Having any problems at school, Joy?”

      “No.”

      “Anyone bothering you on the bus? On your way home?”

      Joy rotated the #1 Dad mug in her hands. “No,” she said and took a lukewarm sip.

      “What happened to your eye?”

      Her father glanced up at the question, too.

      She set the mug down, not liking to link the two things together. “I got a scratched cornea at the Carousel—a splinter, I think. I was looking up when something fell.” Joy pointed at the patch. “I have to wear this thing for two more days.”

      The officer glanced at her, then Dad, forehead crinkled in a what-can-you-do ripple. He dug into his pocket and held out a business card. “Well, we didn’t find anything out of the ordinary outside. We’ve got your statement. If you remember anything else you want to add, my number’s on the card. Feel free to give me a call.” He handed the card to Joy’s father, who nodded.

      “Thank you, Officer Castrodad,” he said with a firm handshake. “I appreciate you coming out.”

      The policeman nodded. “Just doing my job.” He cast a last look at Joy, who hid her face behind the cheap ceramic cup. “Mr. Malone. Joy.” The officer let himself out.

      Her father flipped the card onto the table and took a stroll around the room.

      “Well, that was some excitement,” he said, setting his hands on his hips. “You certainly got my attention.”

      Joy frowned. “You think I made this up?” She felt more angry than scared, but he was obviously angry, too.

      “I don’t know, Joy, did you?” he snapped. “You weren’t particularly truthful with the man when he asked you about school.”

      “Dad—”

      “No. Don’t ‘Dad’ me,” he said. “Grades slipping, quitting gymnastics and ignoring calls from your mother may be par for the course after something like this....” Mothers leaving their families for younger men in California was apparently considered a something like this. “All the damn books say acting out is normal, and, yes, getting suspended last year for knocking over chairs is a little rough for a zero tolerance–policy school, okay, but lying, Joy? The E.R.? Police? That’s not like you. And you were lying tonight.”

      “I wasn’t lying!” she insisted. Joy hated when he threw the suspension in her face. That was forever ago. Just like Mom leaving, or quitting gymnastics and giving up her Olympic dreams, not to mention her entire social life.

      Dad threw his keys hard into the couch. “Oh, really? Where’s Monica, Joy?”

      Joy gaped. “She ditched me!” she said, but knew the facts were stacked against her. “That wasn’t my fault! I didn’t know she was going to back out last-minute to go dance with some guy!” She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to cry. It was so unfair! She was half inclined to tell him what had really happened yesterday, but he already thought she was a psychopathic liar.

      “When I called the Reids to tell them I was on my way, I woke them up, Joy! Monica was asleep in bed after telling her parents that she’d been here all night.”

      Joy groaned. “So Monica’s a liar and I get the blame?”

      “Were you covering for her?”

      “No!”

      “Did you make this all up?”

      “No.”

      He crossed his arms. “Joy, I won’t be any madder than I am right now—”

      “No!”

      Dad softened a little; he was still mad, but he wanted to believe her. She could tell. They had to trust one another—they were all they had left. It was like he was thinking the same thing. He deflated over his belly.

      “I get that you’re angry, Joy. We’re all angry. But there’s defiant, and then there’s reckless. The constant moping and lashing out...” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Did you break the window, Joy?” he asked softly.

      “No, Dad.” Joy punctuated her words with a fist on the table. Frustration shivered through her body. Why wouldn’t he believe her? Her voice broke like glass. “I didn’t! The outside pane’s broken and we’re two floors up! There was someone at the window and I was all alone and I was so scared!”

      He wrapped her in his arms, rubbing her shoulders through the sleeves as if she were cold. Tears trapped under gauze were suddenly dripping off her chin. She sniffled as he rocked her slowly. Everything felt twisted and wrong.

      “I’m sorry, Dad,” she whispered, but she couldn’t say what she was sorry for.

      “I’m sorry, too,” he said with a squeeze. “Tomorrow I’m getting an alarm. We’ll both sleep better then.”

      She gave his forearms a last bit of hug.

      “Did I ruin your date?” she asked. Joy felt her dad pause.

      “Do you want me to answer that?”

      She thought about it. “Not tonight.”

      Her СКАЧАТЬ