Sliver Moon Bay: The Looking Page 5

  I put my plan into action as soon as those two clowns are gone to bed. Sneaking out of the house at this hour is exciting and I’m thinking it’s my lucky day. I got hold of Chris’s key to the old man’s house. He’s had it for a long time but he never said how it came to be. I guess he has his secrets too. He carries the key in his jean’s pocket. And he left his jeans on the bathroom floor. Go figure. It’s meant to be.

  It’s a calm, starry night. The Moon’s up, an enormous gigantic marble sitting quite low, looking down at me, egging me on. He’s keen to see me do my thing tonight. I get to the house. It’s dark and quiet and I imagine old Drake, snoring in his bed. He’ll have the window open and I’ll be able to hear it. Of course, the bedroom window is closed. Well, never mind; the key won’t make a sound. I’ll sneak in, undetected, and take all the pictures. I’ll leave, undetected, and nobody will ever know. Tomorrow, Chris and Lilian won’t find nothing. Not. A. Thing. Neither will the old man. Everybody will have to kiss and make up. And we’ll all stay put.

  It’s a good plan and it works. The key turns in the lock noiselessly. RIP Assassin under his tree, also noiseless. Old man—nowhere to be found. From the bedroom doorway I can see the bed’s made up; it’s not been slept in this very night. So where is old Drake if not in beddy-byes? He’s not here at all. His crossbow is. And that’s a good thing. He’ll not be killing little girls’ pets tonight.

  18

  The pictures weren’t there. The cookie jar was empty, completely utterly empty. So the old man knows they’re onto him. He’s done the right thing cause now I won’t have to steal his pictures to keep him out of trouble. Tomorrow, when Chris shows up, he’ll be too late. The evidence is gone. Except there’s still the pictures in Chris’s desk drawer. Ah, well, that problem can easily go away. But first things first. I’d better leave before the old goat gets home and finds me here. All alone. Defenceless. What would happen to me then, huh? —Exactly.

  I got home, put the key back in Chris’s pocket and went to bed. I fell asleep, eventually, which I shouldn’t have. But you know how it is. Shit happens. And not just in my dreams.

  And so she comes to me.

  ‘Sarah! Sarah! Saraaaaaaaaaah!’

  I hear her. She’s appeared, as always, come to haunt me. But she’s different tonight, not herself. There’s no Emily here tonight. No Fairy either. Tonight she’s a banshee, screeching. Her wings are flaming red and she’s blind. In the dark, she can’t see a thing.

  ‘Sarah! Where are you?’

  The door to my room bursts open. Behind her, flames. F. Lames.

  ‘Sarah! The house’s on fire!’

  Lilian grabs hold of me and we both stagger out just as Chris kicks Starling’s door open.

  ‘Starling!’

  He’s frantic. Starling! Starling! Starling! Starling! Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarling!

  But she’s not there. Starling isn’t in her bed, under it, above it, under the desk or on it, isn’t hiding behind the curtains or the desk and the wardrobe is gaping open too. Empty. Empty. Empty. Our baby Starling has flown the coop.

  The fire takes hold of everything, uniformly. But we all cope differently. I’m burning. Burning from the inside out, I’m scorched from my intestines to the tips of my fingers. Lilian’s unconscious; she’s floating about the space like an astronaut disappearing into blackness. Chris is high on fear, adrenaline and pure energy. He splits himself into a hundred, thousand, million rampaging men, performing feats of courage and strength everywhere at once. But Starling has flown the coop and left us burning in hell.

  Chris tears through the house like a fireball, diving into Starling’s room once again. The ceiling gives, the space explodes. Outside, I put my arms around Lilian. She’s in her silk bra and panties. Oh, so they’ve been busy. That, of all things, on a night like this. Poor Lilian. She’s on the ground, unaware. She knows nothing of this great bonfire swallowing her life. It’s a big fire; it’s lit up the sky, shamed the Moon. He’s gone somewhere, to sulk, leaving me here alone, remembering Chris. He’ll always be orange to me now. And I don’t know how I’m going to tell Lilian.

  It turns out I won’t have to. Chris staggers out, smouldering but alive. Old Drake appears, dives into the house that is now freely collapsing around him. The man doesn’t seem to care. He’s looking for his granddaughter. This is a proper nightmare.

  19

  One elephant, two elephants, three elephants, four elephants, five elephants, six elephants, seven elephants, eight elephants, nine elephants, ten elephants… Ready or not, Emily, here I come!

  Quiet. Mummy’s looking.

  Emily? Emily-darling, where are you?

  Shhh…Mummy’s looking. Mummy’s here.

  Ah! There you are! I see you! — Good job hiding, sweetheart. Your turn to find Mummy now. Put your hands over your face, now, sweetie. Remember? And count ten elephants. Okay? Go.

  One elephant, two elephant, three elephant, seven elephant, TEN! — Ready or not, Mummy, here I come!

  —

  ‘Sarah. Sarah, can you hear me?’

  I do. I hear her. I sense she’s hovering over me so I must have fainted, again, during gym. And when I open my eyes, the whole class will be looking at me. She’ll be right there, close to me. Stinking. And worried. So maybe I won’t open my eyes. Not until they’ve all gone away. I’ll just hold my breath.

  But it’s too quiet. Nobody’s laughing.

  ‘Sarah? You feeling okay? Can you talk?’

  Oh, my God. Starling!

  ‘Starling?’ I croak, open my eyes.

  Silly Bitch says nothing for a bit. She sits close by, wedged in a plastic armchair, her massive body spilling out of the gaps under the chair’s arms. Her hands are clasped in her lap and she’s leaning towards me. Though she’s pretty much blocking the daylight coming in through the window I can see that she’s anxious and that I’m in a hospital room, lying in bed.

  ‘Starling?’

  Silly Bitch wells up. She’s shaking her head.

  ‘We haven’t found her yet. But she isn’t in the house so we’re hopeful.’

  She tries to smile. To look hopeful. But she’s not pulling it off.

  ‘Where’s my mum?’

  I’m having trouble speaking. My throat hurts.

  ‘She’s in the room next door. She’s okay but sedated. Your dad is out, with the firefighters, looking for your sister.’

  Now I see the connection. Silly Bitch is married to a fireman, Captain Josh he’s called, who comes to school to show the fire truck to pre-schoolers. He’s a good guy to have in charge of the rescue cause he’s also a policeman, one of the two guarding law and order in Sliver Moon Bay.

  ‘They will find her, Sarah. She’s not inside. The fire is out. They’ve saved most of the house.’

  I see. The house is still standing and Starling’s not in it. That means that she’s out somewhere, safe from the flames.

  Silly Bitch pats my hand. She offers me a drink. I draw some water in. My throat hurts. I’m worried about Starling but I know she will have found a safe place by now. She would have found herself a little nest to rest in. It wouldn’t be too far. We’ll find her.

  ‘Drake?’ I croak to Silly Bitch. ‘Is he okay?’

  ‘He’s not doing so well, Sarah. He’s badly burnt. But we’re hopeful.’

  I nod, close my eyes. I see him, in flames, inside Starling’s room, burning like a pile of twigs. The dude’s a goner, for sure. I’m gonna have to tell Starling about him one day. How everyone looked for her during the fire and how her wayward grandad gave his life for her. I will tell her. After we find her.

  20

  But we didn’t find her. I slept for a long time. When I woke up, Silly Bitch was gone and in her place sat Lilian, looking like death warmed up. She looked at me and began to cry. Silently. She had these huge tears sliding down her cheeks and she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t speak. She just looked at me. I knew. We haven’t found Starling.

  The
n something weird happened. I felt myself levitate from the bed. I floated up to the ceiling where I hovered, looking down at me, lying on the bed, with my eyes closed, watching Lilian sat in a wheelchair, crying these crocodile tears that slid down her cheeks like glass snakes. Eventually, they fell off her cheekbones and shattered on the ground.

  I began to scream. It was so weird seeing the two of me and Lilian right there not reacting at all. I screamed and screamed, but she didn’t appear to hear me. Then the door opened and somebody stuck their head in. I fell into myself and opened my eyes. The door closed.

  Lilian saw me looking and smiled.

  ‘You feeling better, honey?’

  I nodded.

  ‘What’s going on, Mum?’

  Lilian shifts uncomfortably. She has something to tell me. I can just see it in her eyes. I wish she’d just come out with it.

  ‘They’ve found Starling’s Sleepy on the beach.’

  ‘That’s a good thing, right?’

  ‘We’re hoping it is, honey. Chris is out there, looking.’

  Lilian starts to cry a little more. She’s losing control and sobbing now.

  ‘Mum. She wouldn’t have gone in the water. She doesn’t like the waves.’

  ‘I know,’ sobs Lilian. ‘But she’s so little and it was dark. Why can’t they find her?’

  I have nothing to tell her. There’s just no good answer to this.

  ‘How is Drake?’

  She shakes her head. She’s wiping her tears. She’s making an effort to get a hold of herself.

  ‘He’s still in intensive care, honey. No change.’

  The door opened and Chris came in. He hugged me. Told me how sorry he was for not finding Starling already. But he will, he promises, if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Who knows? It might as well be. So we all cry. The hope we all feel can be hugged so we hug it. Like a family. Then Chris wheels Lilian away.

  I’m left alone to think. I think of Starling. How little she is, how little she knows about the world. Where does she fit in it now? And where do I fit without her? I’m gonna have to find a new place for me but I don’t know how. Lilian won’t be able to. Chris neither. And nobody else really matters in our life, do they?

  Fairy comes to me late at night. She’s looking at me like I should not give up hope. So I won’t. It will make a difference, I know cause I’ve been hoping to meet Fairy ever since I remembered her. And one day I’m going to. So I’m gonna really try and be hopeful.

  21

  Chris and Lilian return. The door opens for the second time and it’s the cops come to see me. Captain Josh walks in followed by a stranger, a serious looking older man. The two shake hands with Chris and Lilian, look at me and get down to business.

  The serious type introduces himself as Detective Martin. Turns out he’s a senior investigator somewhere impressive, somewhere where they know what they’re doing and he’s come to take charge of the investigation. He has a lot of experience with locating missing children. He’s an expert in the field, according to Captain Josh who seems anxious in the presence of such authority. His words hit me like a sledge hammer. We have an expert on board now so officially we have a missing child. Starling isn’t just missing now, hiding from the fire, waiting it out somewhere safe where she chose to stay. Starling is a missing child. Even Lilian’s registered this, despite her medicated oblivion; she’s bursting into fresh tears, dissolving in them like a soggy tissue. Is this all she can do? It’s enough to make one angry. But I’m still here, thinking for the both of us.

  I answer Detective Martin’s questions. He wants to know our daily routine; what Starling and I did when we were together, which, he understood, was most of the time. He throws a glance at Lilian. She, of course, is oblivious. Too busy crying. Too busy pitying herself to help locate her missing child. It’s a good thing Chris is holding it together. He explains that Lilian is not well, that she’s a delicate, frail person, and if she falls ill when he’s away working, I take care of Starling. Yes, I have missed a bit of school, yes, this will be addressed and I will be attending classes regularly in the future, and now can we please try to find my daughter? Chris assumes a stance like he’s facing off old Drake; he has crossed his arms, spread his legs wide apart. He’s ready for a confrontation. His defensiveness has not escaped Detective Martin’s notice. He takes note of it alright cause this here is a clever cookie. With a lot of expertise in the field.

  Captain Josh registers the shift in the atmosphere. He’s trying to be helpful so he’s doing his best to diffuse the situation. He’s suggesting we go get a cup of tea from the canteen, just me and them. Give Lilian time to compose herself. Chris too. But Chris isn’t having any of it. He hasn’t much respect for Captain Josh to heed his advice. I really don’t blame him. I wouldn’t take notice of anything Captain Josh has to say. The dude’s lived in Sliver Moon Bay all his life. He married Silly Bitch, right out of high school for Chrissakes so what does that say about him? He settles for what he can see. But he’s no eye for detail, if you ask me. He’s not found Starling. How hard can it be to locate one little girl when there’s only one place to look? Comb the beach, Chrissakes. That’s all she knows. That’s where we always go to play. We shouldn’t have to call on a big town detective to figure this out. He’s going to be nothing but a nuisance. He’s going to dig into people’s lives. I can see Lilian’s going to be in pieces, permanently. She’s gonna up the drinking, up the mental-rama she’s powerless against under much less stress, let alone this. It’ll crush her. So it’s only Chris who can be counted on. He has a one track mind. He’s not going to give up. That just leaves old Drake. But he’s been doing things he might not want people to know about. He might derail the investigation with new, unhelpful ideas to take the heat off him. It’d be good if he just did everyone a favour. But we won’t worry as yet; the way things are going, I don’t think he’s gonna be a problem.

  I’m looking around me and I see that I really need to get out of here. We have a little girl to find. And somebody’s got to take charge.

  Then Lilian rallies her wits about her. She tells Detective Martin about the pictures she’s found in old Drake’s house. Of course, our house is gutted so nothing of the sort is going to be found so it’s just her word. And Chris’s. They’re telling the man about the trouble with Assassin and White Sox but conveniently nothing about Chris stealing his old man’s dope. I can see Chris’s mind ticking just so. I see what he’s thinking. What good would it do? —Exactly. Detective Martin writes everything down, all of Chris’s suspicions about old Drake. How he took Starling before he started the fire. To teach us a lesson, says Chris. To pay us back cause he thinks we killed his stupid dog. He’s set on revenge. He’s already killed our cat. And he knows Lilian’s found his sick pictures. So he’s stolen our little girl and set our house on fire. The whole diving-into-the-flames-looking-for-Starling scene was a ruse. He’s just that sick. But he’s got her somewhere. And it’s up to us to find her cause old Drake’s not gonna tell us where she is.

  22

  Chris was right. The old dude isn’t going to fess up to anything. Old Drake lies in a hospital bed wrapped up like a mummy, hooked up to all sorts. It’s obvious what is happening here. He’s going to die. Still, Lilian pays no attention to this horrible reality. She’s pleading with him to give up Starling, to tell us where he’s put her. To just make a sign to let her know. She’s giving him choices. Is she here? Is she there? I know she’s safe. I know you wouldn’t hurt her, Drake. Just move your finger, Drake. Please. Let’s save her. Your flesh and blood. You know. You’re her grandfather. Have mercy.

  Of course, old Drake is immune to this theatre. He’s past anything useful in this life. I’m standing there, watching Lilian dying in his place, and the clock is ticking, as they say. It is. In so many ways. There is pressure inside me. It’s a hammer, hammering away same old same old. And nothing is changing. Lilian cries, uselessly, into her hands, collapsed in her wheelchair, and old Drake d
oesn’t give a— and I feel I have to leave. If I don’t, I will take the pillow from under his head and press it down over his face, and I will not let go until he has. And then what? —Exactly.

  So I lead Lilian away from this dreadful man. It’s really up to me to find my little birdie.

  23

  But there’s always something in the way. Thirty six hours after the fire we’re back home. We’re staying in the caravan until the house is fixed. We’ll be here a while cause the house is a mess. The bedrooms are all pretty much gutted and it smells of smoke in there and Starling’s room is burned down completely. There’s a big hole in the roof right above it and there’s basically nothing left of it. Lilian can’t bear to go near it. So Chris and I carry out what can be used which is not much, just the coffee table and some furniture in the living room which is mostly intact as the fire spread on the other side of the house. But the couch is too stinky and the cushions can’t be sat on because of the ash so we chuck it out. It’s a job to keep us busy while we wait to get busy with what matters. Of course, there are other people doing our job, twenty-four seven. It’s only us lagging behind. People are swarming all over the beach, the forest, the town like a bunch of angry bees looking for a new home. Poking into every nook and cranny. Without much hope cause it’s getting too long now. Too long in the timeline. And time, in these cases, is always of the essence. So why am I wasting what’s left of it?