"No clues," Daddy said. "And don't try to trick your sister into telling you, either. She's sworn to secrecy, a blood oath."
The laughter and teasing helped us all ease out of the tension. By the time we were on our way home, we were all in a lighter mood, and once again, I felt as if I were back to a time before the Pearson tragedy. In the morning, I would get on the school bus and wait for Karen to board. We would play our mind games and laugh about some of the other students. Our conversation would be light and airy and full of silliness. Oh, how I wished that would be. Why couldn't we just close our eyes and wish really hard for good things? How easy it used to be to imagine and pretend. There wasn't anyplace Karen and I couldn't go, any world we couldn't enter through the magic of our own fantasies.
However, as we drove up to the 'house and into our driveway, the darkness of the attic windows brought me quickly back to reality. I hoped, Karen hadn't done anything to leav
e any traces of herself or any clues to her presence in our home. I rushed into the kitchen ahead of my mother to check the countertops and table, to be sure every cabinet door was closed and there were no crumbs or wrappers, anything that would draw attention and curiosity, as she had done the first time. Fortunately, the kitchen was as spotless as we had left it.
Daddy went to his home office for a while, and I went up to my room. Jesse remained below watching television with Mama. I felt so helpless just sitting there and, again, so guilty because of the good time I had just had with my family while Karen sat in the attic darkness. I just had to chance it. It had been too long, and too much had happened since Karen and I last spoke to each other. I had to know how she was doing. Once again, I tried to fly up those noisy attic steps unnoticed. I paused at the door and listened. The television was on below, and I could vaguely hear Mama and Jesse talking.
I opened the attic door and slipped in, closing it softly behind me. For a long moment, I stood there with my back against the door, panning the attic. The clearer night sky painted everything in a skeletonwhite illumination. It looked like a room full of ghosts. The far wall creaked.
"Karen?" I called in a loud whisper. "Come out. Speak to me," I said. "It's all right. We have a few minutes. It's safe. Karen, where are you?" I
demanded, more forcefully.
"Why did you come up? They're all in the house," I heard her say right beside me. She had pressed her back to the wall just behind a cabinet. She didn't move forward, however. She remained there as if she had been hung along with some of the old pictures and frames.
I stepped further into the attic.
"It's all right. My brother and my mother are watching television, and my father's working in his office. How are you? When did you realize Jesse was back? How have you managed with such little time?"
"Just go back out and down to your room," she said. "I'm fine."
"But . . . food, water. Did you get what you needed when we were out?"
She was silent, and then she stepped away from the wall and walked softly into the dim pool of light. She was wearing one of my nightgowns. Her hair was down. She had a smile on her face, a smile I didn't expect. She looked happier, comfortable, content. How could she be?
"No," she said, smiling at me. "I got it all before you left, way before you left."
"Oh. You mean when Jesse left the house?"
"No, Zipporah. I got everything I need for now from Jesse," she said.
"What? From Jesse? I don't understand. What are you saying?"
She seized my hand and pulled me toward the sofa. We both sat.
"Listen to me," she began, speaking quickly and excitedly. "I didn't know he had come home. I had fallen asleep and was still asleep when he drove in and parked his car behind the garage. He didn't make much noise after he entered the house, either. I woke up and went down the attic steps to get some fresh water and something to eat. He didn't hear me coming down the stairs, and I didn't know he was in his room, but the door was open and . . ."
"And what?"
"He was changing and standing there in his underwear when he turned and saw me in the hallway." "Oh, no."
"Yes. Of course, like you, I thought this was the end. I'm done for, and so are you."
"Jesse didn't say anything about it," I told her, shaking my head. I was convinced she was making it up. Maybe it was one of her fantasies. I started to feel sick.
"Of course he didn't. A brilliant solution came to me instantly. It was almost as if . . . as if Lucy Doral was whispering in my ear," she added, which brought even more chills sliding along my spine.
"What solution?"
"I pretended as if I had just arrived."
"Just arrived?"
"Yes, don't you see? I pretended that you didn't know I was there yet. He didn't even bother putting on his pants. He charged forward to the doorway. 'What are you doing here?' he asked. I started to cry, standing there with my arms around myself and sobbing so hard I imagine I looked like I might just crumble at his feet. He thought so. He reached out to hold me, and I pressed my face against his warm skin and let my tears soak his chest. 'What are you doing here?' he asked again. I cried harder, and he took me into his room and sat me on his bed while he went for a warm, wet washcloth to wipe my face. He squatted in front of me and held my hand and waited for me to catch my breath. I was so good, Zipporah. I wish you had seen me. Too bad they don't give Academy Awards for everyday real-life performances. I'd be making an acceptance speech."
"What did you tell him? Why didn't he say anything to me, to my father, about any of this?"