Dollhouse (7 page)

“It’s just... I just think we’re better doing this on our own.”

 “Don’t tell me you suspect Ethan of anything? Lacey?”

Light fell on her delicate profile. She let her hair swing forward, as though placing a veil between herself and me.

“No. But, just... well he seems different. Did you notice?”

I stared intently at her for a moment. I hated to admit it, but she was right. Ethan had a coldness, a hard edge to him he hadn't had before. But I lied and told her that he seemed the same to me. I don't know why. It just seemed like everyone had been talking behind Ethan's back ever since the day Aisha vanished.

Lacey’s pale eyes were round. “What if... Ethan didn't do anything, but he's protecting someone? Maybe protecting his grandfather, or maybe someone else. I hate myself saying this, but what if the real reason he's here is to cover something up?"

"Lace, no way. C'mon, we're talking about Ethan here. He wouldn't do that."

"There's always sides to people you don't know about. Yeah, so I learned that from my dad. And, well,  there's a side to Ethan that maybe you don't know. Aish told me something a couple of days before the hike. She said Ethan had asked her outright when she was going to sleep with him, and he kind of blew up when she said she wasn’t ready. Like, got really angry.”

“Really?” I hadn’t been expecting that.

“Yeah.”

I scratched my fingernails into the palm of one hand. That wasn’t the picture I’d conjured up in my mind of how he’d be if he were my boyfriend. I couldn’t imagine saying
no
to him, but I also couldn’t imagine him getting angry over something like that.

Mom’s old boyfriend, Lance, came into my mind. He’d been a liar. And mom didn’t even suspect. I’d liked Lance—he’d seemed open and funny. So how did you ever really know for sure when people were telling lies or the truth?

We reached the river in silence, stepping along the stones. I balanced carefully—trying to avoid getting wet shoes and socks.

Aisha had fallen in that river, not long before she disappeared. As night fell, she would have been wet and freezing.
If she’d even made it to night alive.

I shivered.

“Hey,” said Lacey. “Should we head down Thunderbolt’s Way?”

“Didn’t Ethan tell us he’d already been all over that?”

Lacey shrugged in a deliberate way.

I took a full breath. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Half an hour ago, it would have seemed pointless for us to go over the same ground Ethan had. Now, my thoughts were murky. Was I becoming like everyone else? Going against Ethan? No, I told myself. You’re just checking things out, staying open. Aisha deserved that much.

We packed up enough food and supplies to last a day and headed towards Thunderbolt’s Way.

* * * *

Twisted ghost gums leant over Captain Thunderbolt’s Lookout—trying to mount a defensive position, guarding an onslaught from the savage mountains below.

Could Aisha have run this far? It had taken us almost two hours to walk here. We stepped into and around the trees, looking for something—anything—that shouldn’t be there.

The search parties back in May hadn’t turned up anything—not the faintest hint or clue. Everywhere I looked I could see and hear the clamor and frenzy of the first search. The teams had combed every square foot of Devils Hole and surrounds—sniffer dogs barking and eager to run on their leashes, police streaming in and out of the old house like busy ants.

Day after day after day had passed with no sign of Aisha. Then weeks went on where search teams spread out further and further, until the day they told Aisha's family they had to call the search off. Aisha’s parents had leant on each other like buildings weathering a cyclone, their faces frozen under the gray sky.

At noon, I lunched on bagels and muesli bars. Lacey had an apple and a packet of rice crisps, and didn’t finish either of those.

We headed off down Honeysuckle Forest Track. I tried to think like someone who didn’t want to be found—heading off the track where the growth wasn’t too dense but dense enough to hide in. And trying like crazy to cling to my belief that Aisha had run away. After two hours, I had nothing but scratches on my hands to show for my efforts.

I watched as shadows crept longer and longer across the forest floor, and trees in the distance darkened.

“We have to get back.” I tried to sound casual.

Night approached with terrifying speed as we made our way back to the campsite.

Lacey and I had a quick dinner of baked beans and toast, and then sat with our chins resting on our knees. We only had a small solar lamp, and its frail white light had none of the warmth and reassurance of a real fire.

Wherever Ethan had gone, he hadn’t returned.

Lacey leant back and yawned. “Time to crash.”

It was too early for me to sleep. At home I’d be watching some stupid sitcom with mom around this time of night.

We quickly cleaned up and moved into the tent. Lacey zipped herself into her sleeping bag, apologizing for poking my ribs with her sharp elbow. Tonight was the closest I’d ever slept next to someone since I was a baby—and I didn’t remember being a baby. It felt strange, almost too intimate. Not having siblings, I’d never even done the rough and tumble thing with another child. Back in Miami, I really didn’t even have any close friends. That was just how it was.

My stomach hurt—I realized I was still hungry.  I took out two chocolate bars from my backpack, and offered Lacey one.

“No thanks—already brushed my teeth.” She curled up on her side.

I knew she probably wouldn’t have taken the chocolate anyway.

Licking the last of the chocolate from my fingers, I tried to settle into sleep. Lacey seemed deep in slumber already. She slept a lot. I wondered if that was because she never had much energy—she didn’t eat enough to keep a flea going.

Impenetrable darkness surrounded me, drawing me in, dragging me down. Shutting my eyes, I tried to picture something to block out the night—favorite video clips, music, school, parties I’d been to—and Ethan.

But Ethan was
out there
, somehow part of the night. And I didn’t even know if I knew him, anymore.

Sounds of the forest grew louder as the night wound on. Layers of screeching bird calls, rustles and crashes through the bush, and a low, raucous baying. From the lookout at Devils Hole, the forests seemed wild yet serene. But at night the forests were a maelstrom of noise carried on black winds.

Ethan’s tent flapped open to the morning breeze—the tent looking desolate. I couldn’t tell whether he had been back there during the night or not.

Maybe he'd abandoned us, taken off on his own.

I stuck my head inside his tent. There was nothing except a sleeping bag and a dog-eared notepad. He must have taken his backpack, wherever he was.

I picked up the notepad. He'd drawn the Fiveash house in perfect perspective—not so much artistic as trying to get every detail correct.

As I flipped in a few pages, I noticed that these entries were older, maybe from before Aisha vanished. Page after page of pencil drawings of trees. Above the ground, the scenes appeared pleasant—nature scenes of forests—but below the ground, the surreal roots twisted and surged and seethed, trapping small animals and other plants.

I flipped back another few pages. There was some kind of ledger, with bills and mortgage amounts penciled in. The next pages held crazy scrawled writings—crossed out and written every which way. One entry was a note about a math assignment, dated a year ago. I turned the notepad on an angle to read another of the entries:

There's echoes in your voice,  everything you said

Everything you'll ever say, written on the mirror

A thousand, thousand times I'll stake out your altar

When rain falls through the darkening light

I'll find you, find you on the other side.

The notepad fell through my fingers. I was trespassing. In the worst way. Reading his personal stuff wasn't helping with anything.

Lacey and I breakfasted quickly, and left for the day. Today we were determined to do what we’d come here to do—search for a gold mine. Heading towards the rocky hills in the distance, Lacey and I pulled beanies over our heads. The air was brisk, although not as cutting as it had been the previous morning.

We reached the hills within an hour. Attempting to imagine each square meter of hill as a search area, we checked each square thoroughly—looking for rock formations for edges that looked artificial or cut, or anything that looked like it had been covered over.

For a while there, I almost convinced myself I was on some heroic quest—here to avenge the disappearance of my friend, to uncover every stone. The next hour, I knew I was just a stupid kid in the midst of an endless, rolling set of forests, and that was all.

Lacey caught sight of Ethan running through the forests. We followed after him. Somehow, the rest of the day became all about following Ethan. We watched as he roamed the forests and climbed trees. We'd lose sight of him of him and find him again. We saw that he spent a lot of time high up in branches, though we didn't know what he was spying on.

* * * *

A bone-wrenching scream shocked me awake. I sat bolt upright, gulping quick breaths.

Lacey drew her sleeping bag up around her chin. “You scared me! What’s up?”

Ashen light filtered through the plastic window of the tent. It was morning, and it seemed I’d barely been asleep.

“I thought I heard—something.” I rubbed my forehead. “Must have been dreaming.”

Lacey and I pulled on our runners and crawled out of the tent. Outside, the world was tinted dark gray. Ethan splashed his bare torso with water at the river. His back and chest already looked thin and rangy.

Lacey poured a tiny packet of long-life milk into a tiny packet of Coco Pops, and mixed it together with a spoon. She ate without expression, as though eating were a mere inconvenience.

Ethan turned and gazed at me and Lacey for a moment, like an animal caught in a spotlight. He strode up to us, the whites of his eyes clear and large in the deep light. “I’m tracking Henry the rest of this week. Don’t get in my way or alert him that we’re here. And quit following me, will you?”

Lacey tossed her empty cereal packet in the trash bag. “I’ve spotted you following us, too, from time to time."

I stared at Ethan. I hadn’t even noticed him behind us at all yesterday.

He shrugged at Lacey, avoiding my gaze.

Lacey gave a low sigh. “This is pointless. We just spent a day chasing each other around out there in the forests.”

"Yeah," I agreed. "None of this is helping to find Aisha."

A humorless smile inched across Ethan's face. “Good. Let's agree on staying far away from each other.” 

Lacey moved off to rummage for something in the tent.

I laced my shoe. “Ethan, why are you following Henry? He wasn’t even here when Aish went missing.”

“So what?” Ethan said. “Maybe he had something booby-trapped.”

“That’s nuts. No one even comes this way.”

“Maybe he was trying to trap animals—but he got Aisha instead.”

I considered this for a moment. “It would be illegal to trap animals here. And anyway—that’s pretty far-fetched.”

“Just do what I ask, and stay away. Let me do what I’ve got to do.”

“We’ll do better. We’ll come too. Then we can't get in each other's way because we'll all be together.” I held Ethan’s gaze.

The words had spilled out unchecked.

Lacey stood behind me—her furry anorak in her hand.

“What? Us? No way, Hosea.” Lacey marched into the forest.

I found her with her back against a tree, struggling to do up the stuck zipper on her jacket. Her eyes were red.

“I’m worried Ethan might crack and hurt Henry.” I fished a beanie from my pocket and pulled it over my ears. “He's been pretty weird. I just want to help him get through this. As a friend.”

“I think we should pack up our tent and move it to another part of the forest.” Lacey’s voice trembled. “Leave Ethan to whatever crazy plan he has cooked up.”

“Ethan’s hurting. Maybe pain just makes you act the way he has. I don't know.”

She searched my face. “I’m starting to wonder if you like Ethan—as more than just a friend.”

 Biting my upper lip, I dug my fists into my jacket pockets. “What? No!”

Lacey reached back at the neck of her anorak and pulled out a hood—slipping it over her head. “Okay I'm sorry. But, if Ethan’s going mental, maybe we should just leave. We should really call the police if we think he’s going to do something bad to Henry. Who knows, he might end up hurting one of us.”

I sucked my lips inwards. “I won’t leave. I’m not leaving.” My words were harsher than I’d meant them to be, but I realized that I really meant it. I was here until I found something.

“We were never going to find Aisha. This whole plan was stupid. Let’s head out, today. Before our parents find out what we’re doing.”

“Not me. But I get it if you leave.”

“Is that what you want? Do you want me to go so you can be alone with him? I mean, there will only be one tent left if I leave. His.”

I stared up into the tree canopy. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to be alone here with Ethan.” At least, I didn't think I did. I didn't even want to let myself think about that, because I didn't know what the answer would really be.

A tear slid wetly down Lacey’s pink-tinged cheek, her eyelashes drifting downwards.  “All right, I’m still in.”

At first, he’d said a flat-out no to us coming with him, but then he’d surprised us by giving in—stating that three heads were better than one.