Ana of California (27 page)

“Over where?”

“The man sitting on the grave,” she said, her voice going quiet. “I think we've summoned him from the dead, like a séance. I think he has something to tell us.”

“It's just a man, a real man, watching the fireworks with his girlfriend.”

Ana reached down and scooped her up, throwing Rye's arm around her shoulder, walking her across the cheering crowd to the top of the stairs.

“I thought you forgot about me,” Rye said. “Electric flowers! Do you see them? Magical mysteries igniting the sky like comets of gold from heaven!”

“We all see them, they're just fireworks.”

“We must sit,” Rye said, her legs buckling as she oozed to the ground.

“I've got you,” Ana said. “We're going to take this step by step.”

“I got me, you got you.”

Rye stood up and took a few steps but stopped, transfixed by the sky and then by a nearby gravestone, which she reached out to touch.

“Rye, can you tell me what you took?”

“Silly string bin.”

“Did you take mushrooms?”

“That's what I just said. I took the mushrooms, introduced them to my mouth and then swallowed. How we got to this stone planet is beyond my comprehension, but isn't it grand?”

The fireworks exploded again overhead, massive starbursts igniting the valley and trees below. Ana put her arm around Rye, remembering someone telling her once that it was important to make someone in an altered state feel taken care of and in a safe place. “I'm here,” Ana said, to which Rye burst into laughter.

“I love you,” Rye answered, trying to catch her breath. “Really, really mean that. We are joined here together on Planet Fate. Let us pray.”

“Ana!” Cole shouted from the bottom of the stairs. He bounded up before she had time to tell him to stay where he was.

“It's you,” Rye said. “A real American hero. Have you come to take me back to my home planet? Let's all stay on this one.”

Ana gave Cole a look that said, “Yes, it's that bad.”

“Wait. I'm detecting vibes. He's
your
hero, not mine,” Rye said to Ana. “He's taking you and leaving me, and there's no water on this planet!”

Cole bent down and hoisted Rye up into his arms. She
gave a squeal before letting her head fall on his chest and again erupting into a fit of giggles. They made their way down step by step, fireworks still bursting overhead.

“About what happened back there—”

“Let's not,” Ana said.

“Kelsey's kind of jealous and had no right to say that.”

“Kelsey is a wretched person. Why you went out with her is beyond me.”

“How did you know I went out with her?”

“We did a séance,” Rye said. “The dead have risen. She is one of them.”

As they got closer and closer to the bottom, Ana spotted the same group of Cole's friends running around and screaming in the playground. “Is there a way we can avoid them?” she asked.

“We'll have to go backward to go forward, but it's only two blocks out of the way.”

“Where are you guys taking me?” Rye asked. “Let's go to Disneyland! Ana? Can you fly us there on your back?”

Cole struggled to hold Rye. She wriggled to the ground at the bottom of the stairs and remained still for a moment. The last of the fireworks rained down from all sides, and Rye suddenly burst into a sprint. She ran for half a block before stopping in the middle of the street and opening her arms to the sky.

“Stay where you are!” Ana shouted as she and Cole ran to catch up.

“Rye? How much did you take?”

“Little baggie,” she said, sitting down on the curb. “I can't go home like this. I don't even have my helmet for the journey, and there are elephants in the sky.”

Ana and Cole sat down on either side of her, neither one of them knowing what to do.

“I think we should go back to the booth,” Ana said.

“I don't think that's a good idea.”

“It's you,” Rye mumbled. “It's
you
,” she repeated, looking from one to the other. “Everything makes sense now!” She attempted to stand up again, but sat back down grabbing her head as if she were trying to make sense of her thoughts. “You and you are two,” she continued before doubling over in guttural giggles. “Like father, like son, right, Coley? I'm supposed to hate you, but I don't. I miss you. Why did you fly away? Wait. Shhhh. You guys, I need to fly away. Someone has to fly me home.
Now.
”

“C'mon,” Cole said, keeping his calm. “We're all going to walk back together.”

They started walking down Main Street toward the fair, each of them holding one of Rye's hands. The street was still empty, people beginning to trickle in through the side streets up ahead. Ana glanced at Cole. He gave her an “everything will be fine” look.

“I'm going to be murdered tonight,” Rye said. “Did you know that?”

“Shhhh, you're fine,” Ana said, putting her arm around Rye's shoulders.

“I have to hide. My dad's going to murder me. My mom's going to give me a life sentence. I have to go. I have to go!”

“We have to do something,” Ana said as Cole stopped Rye from breaking into another run. “I can't be late. We're both supposed to be back right after the fireworks.”

“What do you suggest we do? Take her to her parents?”

“No!” Ana and Rye said simultaneously.

“There,” Ana said, pointing up ahead. “We're going to The Bracken.”

They walked Rye to the café. The light was on, but the door was locked. Ana jiggled it before knocking on the window.

“Are we getting sandwiches?” Rye asked.

Will peeked out from the window of the kitchen and immediately came out, followed by Abbie. They made their way to the front door.

“No, no, no,” Rye said. “No Abbie!”

“Keep calm,” Ana said.

“What's going on?” Will said unlocking the door. “Come inside. Is everything all right?”

“Ana? Are you okay?” Abbie asked. “I was about to head back to the fair. I'm . . . I'm glad you found me on the way.” She looked just as guilty of something as Ana did, both of them acknowledging they weren't where they were supposed to be.

“Rye's not feeling well,” Ana said, both terrified and relieved by Abbie's presence.

“What's going on,” Abbie said confrontationally, her anger directed at Cole.

“Whoa,” Rye said. “That dead deer is dancing under a halo of flowers up there. This planet is way better.”

Will tried to suppress a smile.

Abbie looked from Ana to Cole before turning to Rye. “Hey there, lovely girl,” she said, softening her voice. “How you doing?”

“Are you going to murder me?”

“Of course not, sweetie, we're here to spend some time with you. Doesn't that sound fun?” She put her hand on Rye's back and rubbed it. “We're just going to chill in that booth over here, drink some tea, and listen to some music. How does that sound?”

“That sounds nice.”

She walked Rye over to the booth and sat her down, sliding over a small vase full of flowers for her to look at, then walked back to Ana and Cole at the counter.

“Mushrooms or LSD?” she asked.

“Mushrooms. A small bag's worth,” Cole said.

“We didn't know what to do or where to take her,” Ana said.

“And you? Are you on anything?” Abbie took a moment to scrutinize both Ana's and Cole's eyes.

“No,” Ana said. “We're trying to help.”

“I'll make some tea,” Will said and headed back to the kitchen.

“My parents are going to murder me,” Rye said from the booth.

“Cole, would you mind pulling the shades over the windows? The street is about to fill up again.” Abbie turned to Ana. “What happened? I want a full explanation.”

“I lost Rye at the fair but ran into Cole. So, we walked to the cemetery because that's where Rye said we were supposed to go anyway. We found her like this.”

“Were you drinking?”

“What? No.”

Abbie took a long look at Ana, who forced herself to remain calm despite the lie, worried that this would certainly be her last night in Hadley. “Go have a seat,” Abbie continued. “Be very encouraging and soothing with her. Keep it light and positive.”

“Here's the tea,” Will said, setting it down next to Abbie. “I'd let it cool a bit first.”

“Abbie?” Rye said. “You can't tell my parents. Please, please don't get my parents.”

“Music,” Abbie commanded. “Something soothing or melodic and complex. No heavy metal.”

Will nodded and went back into the kitchen.

Ana was floored by Abbie's all-knowing confidence. She seemed to know exactly what to do, giving orders while keeping her focus on Rye the whole time.

“Cole, I think it's a good idea if you head home now,” Abbie said, the sounds of the café's regular bluesy soul music floating out of the kitchen. “We can take it from here.”

“I want to help,” he said.

“I know you do, hon,” Abbie said. “But I think it's best if we handle it.”

Cole nodded and glanced at Ana, giving her a wave.

“Thanks for your help,” Ana called out, watching him walk out the door.

“Here's how it's going to go,” Abbie said. “You're going to stay here with Rye and Will. I'm going to handle Emmett and the Moons. Rye will sleep at our house tonight. Do not let her wander, but if she wants to eat, that would be helpful.”

“Am I in trouble?” Ana asked

“That's yet to be determined.”

“You guys,” Rye said, leaning over the top of the booth. “It's like we're floating in parallel universes.”

N
o one slept well at Garber Farm that night. Ana awoke later than usual. There was no farmers' market the day after the festival, so Abbie had suggested she sleep in. They'd been up with Rye for part of the night, most of which involved Rye begging Abbie not to call her mother. They'd listened to music for a while before Rye fell asleep on the couch. Ana had tossed and turned all night, playing the day's events over and over again in her mind.

When she woke up, she showered quickly and changed before heading downstairs. It was dark all over the house, including the kitchen. Abbie wasn't there and Rye wasn't on the couch. She flipped on the light, lit the flame under the teakettle, and sat at the table and waited. She tried to focus on reading a homework assignment, but her mind kept wandering to Cole, Rye, the fireworks, and the way it all ended, awkward and confusing, her stomach still sick with worry. There was a light rain falling outside. She heard the van pull up. Abbie came through the back door,
shaking her wet coat out and then sitting down at the table. Her eyes were red, as if she hadn't slept.

“Morning,” she said.

“Good morning—or not so good,” Ana said. “Where's Rye?”

“At home. Begged me the whole way not to say anything, so I just dropped her off at the door.” Abbie ran her hands through her hair and stood up to make some tea. “Not telling my best friends that their daughter was at my house coming down from a mushroom trip is not one of my finest moments. Nor is this situation something you should be involved in. We have a scheduled call with Mrs. Saucedo this evening and, to be honest, I have no idea what to say.”

“Maybe we shouldn't say anything, like Rye said.”

Abbie sighed. “This is so not what I planned,” she said. Ana wondered if she should substitute “you” for “this” because she felt somewhat to blame. “I want to discuss last night through with you step by step. Now that I know about you and Cole—or can assume I know enough—why don't we start with that.”

“There's nothing going on,” Ana said.

“You and I both know that's a lie.”

Ana's mind zigzagged. Though she'd been up for most of the night rehashing what she might say to Abbie, especially because she and Rye had been separated in the farmhouse and hadn't been able to go over their stories, her mind drew a blank as to what she should say next. She stared at the placemat, concentrating on the colors, telling herself over and over not to run outside or back upstairs.

“You're right. I'm sorry,” she finally said. “I should have told you that Rye and I were with Cole for the fireworks.”

“From what I've heard it was just the two of you.”

Again, Ana remained silent.

“I heard from Minerva Shaw that you and Cole made quite the pair at her booth.”

“She gave us masks. I think we even came to an understanding about the whole Coke situation . . .”

“Regardless, Rye told me you two were supposed to meet but you disappeared. She said she looked for you and later found you with Cole. How she ended up taking psychedelic drugs remains a mystery that neither one of you has been able to answer. I'd like you to fill in the blanks, please.”

Ana didn't know whether she should be honest about Rye's offering the mushroom experience to her first, and that she had declined. She didn't know how much she should emphasize she had nothing to do with Rye's choosing to do what she did. And she certainly didn't know Rye would tell Abbie about her and Cole.

“Yes, I was with him,” Ana said, in a low voice. “We're friends, which doesn't seem like a crime to me. I lost Rye, ran into him, and when we couldn't find her, we went up to the hill where we were planning on meeting her anyway.”

“She said you were gone a long time.”

“I guess we lost track of time talking.”

“That's why I gave you my watch.”

Ana ran her fingers up and down the placemat, the tops of her bitten fingernails snagging the woven threads.

“This still doesn't explain the mushrooms,” Abbie continued. “Where did they come from?”

“I don't know.”

“Ana, I want you to be honest with me and tell me where they came from.”

“I heard one of the kids say someone named Dillon, but I wasn't there when she got them.”

“What about Cole?”

“He wasn't there either.”

Abbie's face was flushed. She took a sip of her tea and rubbed her eyes. “Everything was going well until last night. I thought we had an agreement. I thought you and I were on the same page. I don't know what happened, or whose fault it was, or if there were two or three of you, but I do know this . . . you are not allowed to sneak around with Cole again. I realize I have no control over you at school, but Emmett and I have discussed it, and we think it's best to limit your social activities at this point.”

“What does this have to do with Cole?”

“It's complicated, and I don't want to get into it right now, but he is not a positive influence for someone in your situation. You will continue to do your work, go to school, and to follow our rules. Do I make myself clear?”

Ana squeezed her eyes shut. She refused to look up as much as she forced her mouth to remain shut. Abbie seemed far away, the farmhouse too, as if it had transformed into every other foster home she'd been to.

“Think what you will, but I'm not interested in drugs,” Ana said flatly. “Never have been, never will. My mother and father did them and dealt them. Did you know that? And then they were both shot for them. I was right there on the floor holding on to my mother's hand, trying to shake her awake. I stayed like that for an entire day. When I say I don't know what happened with Rye, I don't. I never meant to make you upset. I never meant to be in that situation. I take full responsibility for my actions, but Cole and I did nothing wrong.”

 • • • 

A
na had spent most of the day upstairs, and to Abbie that was worrying. Ana had refused to come down for lunch or
to answer her door. Abbie remained downstairs and got on with her chores. Had she been too harsh? Should she have called Della and Charlie anyway? Abbie paced across the kitchen, just as she had as a teenager.

She knew a bit about Ana's past from correspondence and conversations with Mrs. Saucedo, and they both agreed not to dwell on what was in Ana's file. Knowing what she now knew about Ana's parents, though, she wondered if she would have still said yes to Ana's coming to the farm. “What am I thinking? I absolutely would,” she said to the kitchen sink as she scrubbed it. “Over and over again.”

“Hi,” Ana said sheepishly, walking into the kitchen.

“Did you get some rest?” Abbie asked, putting down the sponge.

“I did some sketching.”

“May I fix you something to eat?”

“I'm not hungry, thanks.”

Abbie thought she should say something about Ana's parents. Should she apologize for Ana's loss or tell her she was there if Ana ever wanted to talk?

“I need some fresh air,” Ana said. “Do I still have permission to take Dolly for a walk?”

“Of course,” Abbie said without hesitation, not knowing what else to say.

Ana walked out the back door, and Abbie watched her cross the garden path. The phone rang. Abbie continued to watch as Ana put the leash on Dolly. She listened to Della say that Rye had told her everything about the night before. She was no longer allowed to spend time with Ana. “I understand,” Abbie said, continuing to stare out the window as Ana smiled and whispered something into Dolly's ear. She wondered how to break the news as she listened to the
rest of what Della had to say. “I understand,” she said again, then hung up. Abbie wasn't allowed to come over anymore either.

 • • • 

A
na leaned against the rock at the side of the creek waiting for Dolly to finish drinking. “Why does nothing ever go the way it's supposed to?” she asked to the dog, frustrated she hadn't brought her sketchbook or snacks. She waited, paying attention to the time on her watch, hoping Cole had thought of the same thing. After twenty minutes, she decided to forge on. She led Dolly through the creek before joining the path again, traversing steep inclines until there were signs of the sunset up in the distance. They stopped for a moment, just listening, the sound of whooshes and roars up ahead. “That's where we're headed, Miss D,” Ana said, rubbing Dolly behind the ears. “We're going to catch the last of the light in the sky and bring it back with us.”

They walked on until the trees began to thin out, giving way to a grassy hill. The ground underfoot became sparse and sandy, and the roars grew louder up ahead. She wrapped the leash tight around her wrist and the two galloped toward the water in the distance, the sun a dull round spotlight hanging just above the waves.

“Un-freaking-believable,” she said to Dolly, to herself, to the beach down below as they stood at the edge of a small cliff, the ground dropping off and giving way to miles and miles of ocean. They were close to the spot Emmett had taken her to. She led Dolly down the side of the hill, steep in parts and slippery, but they made their way carefully before jumping down into the soft sand. The flatness of the beige beach stretched out on either side of them; there was
nothing and no one as far as Ana could see, just choppy waves and the lapping of water in and around the rocky cliffs of the coast. She unleashed Dolly, who then unleashed herself, bounding into the edges of the water before running up and down the beach with incredible speed, her bark announcing the pair's triumphant arrival. Ana plopped down, removed her shoes, and sank her toes into the sand. She didn't care that it was cold or that she'd forgotten a scarf. She took deep breaths and watched the waves.

The memories began to roll back, like they hadn't in weeks. She thought about the concrete building she'd lived in as a child, the one with the shattered windows, and about the lone hand hanging off the edge of the couch, its fingernails chipped red against the floor. She fast-forwarded to her abuela's kitchen, her onetime home, to the unwrapping of caramel candies, the scent of burned tortillas coated in butter and cinnamon waiting at the end of a school-day afternoon. She instinctively reached behind and scratched the base of her neck. “The mark of them,” she thought to herself.

How much longer could she last in Hadley? What was left in L.A.? Was she always condemned to return?

There were barks followed by a roar in the distance, this time not from the waves but from a dirt bike riding along the ridge. She called Dolly, who refused to budge, transfixed as she was by the buzzing up above, the bike jumping up and over small boulders close to the edge. The bike stopped and the biker stood still for a moment before he kicked it back to life and made his way closer. Ana grabbed Dolly and put the leash back on, watching and waiting as Cole parked the bike before heading down to the shore.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she responded.

She threw her arms around his neck and willed him to hold on to her. He tightened his arms around her waist and kissed her lightly on the neck.

“Don't let go,” she said.

“Wasn't planning on it.”

They held on to each other for a moment longer, Dolly barking in circles.

“You're shaking,” he said. “Come sit closer to the rocks.”

They walked farther in and sat down in the crevice of the cliffs away from the wind; Dolly stretched out at their feet.

“How did it go?”

“I'm not sure, actually. I haven't seen or heard from Rye. I'm not supposed to see you anymore either. Again.”

“Figured as much.”

He reached over and took her hand.

“I think this is my fault,” Cole said. Everyone else in Hadley was aware of all of his mistakes except for Ana, he thought. She looked at him without seeing his family or his history, and in turn he did the same. “How are we supposed to stop right when we're getting started?”

“Maybe it's like you said, or like your buddy Jack typed; maybe there's beauty in the ending.”

“I'm good at those.”

“Me too.”

He pulled her close. They watched the waves.

“Rye and I used to be friends, good friends,” he said, wanting to tell her everything. “We used to hang out in the forest near the creek. I don't want you to feel weird about this, because it's in the past, but I had the biggest crush on her. I used to follow her around all the time, probably too much.”

“No surprise there. It's one of your most annoying characteristics.”

“Ha. Yeah. So. We were close, like we hung out together every day, went to the movies together, liked the same music . . . You already know she's the only other person in our school who's remotely interesting. Anyway, we became close friends—the closest thing to a best friend, I guess—and she tolerated my feelings for her. She also tolerated my trying to kiss her one night, which was terrible and awkward, and then we had this intense talk.”

“About what?”

“Rye never spoke to you about this? I thought you were the new me?”

“We're relatively new best friends, and I'm still coming to terms with that concept.”

“She's conflicted, you know? About her sexuality, about a lot of things. It was hard coming out to her parents, but they took it well from what she said.”

“Rye's not very Hadley,” Ana said with a laugh. “Not that it has anything to do with who she wants to make out with.”

“Nope, but she's stuck here like the rest of us. I think it affects her differently from how it affects you and me. She's tough but super fragile too, not that she'd show anyone that side of herself. But she showed me, and then I went and . . . I didn't mean for what happened to happen. Like I told you, I got drunk at my own party, which was typical last year. One of my friends started bothering me about Rye, pestering if we were doing it, etcetera, and he just wouldn't shut up. So I told him that it wasn't like that, that she wasn't like that. I don't even remember exactly what I said, but word
got around school, as things do around here. I didn't know how to make them stop.”