Hands Clasped Tight

“What are we gonna say?”

whispered as two

uniformed police officers walked past the chairs where Adam

and were seated. It was wide hall in the entry of the police

station, the tiled floor

marbled gray and white that looked

like it would be cold against the bottoms of my feet if kicked

off my flip-flops.

“What do you mean?” Adam looked at me, his eyes

scrunched tight. The officers’ footsteps slammed against the

walls, echoing like the gorge, vibrating my entire body. “We’re

gonna tell the truth.”

pressed myself against the straight back of the chair,

trying to mold my body to the hard surface. “Right.”

“We don’t have anything to hide.” Adam’s foot, which

had been tap-tap-tapping the floor nervously, suddenly

stopped. He swiveled in his seat and leaned toward me, his

eyes searching mine. “Do we?”

Adam’s hand gripped my knee, and placed my hand

over his, soaking in the warmth of his skin, reassured that he

was sitting there next to me. Alive.

“Mags.” Adam ran

hand through the dried clumps of

his sun-streaked hair. “If should know something, now is the time to tell me. They’re gonna be done talking to our parents

any minute, and—”

“There’s nothing more to say.” My bangs fell forward

and swiped them out of my eyes, blinking away the fear that

had taken hold of me, and settled even deeper into the raw

pain of Joey’s sudden absence. “I can’t remember anything.”

“You really can’t?” Adam pressed his lips together so

tightly they disappeared. He quivered

little, and for

moment, he looked like the kindergarten version of himself,

lost and alone, like he had when his mother dropped him off

for his first day of school. squeezed his hand, the way had all

those years ago when I’d led him to the reading corner to

distract him from being left behind.

closed my eyes, playing the day’s events along the

backs of my lids like

silent movie. Driving in Tanna’s car,

windows down, music blaring, watching Shannon’s hair whip,

and dip, and flip all around her head in the crazy, rushing wind

as she giggled about how Ronnie Booker had puked all over

Gina Hanlon’s purse at the party we’d gone to the night before.

Hiking up the trail from the parking lot to the Jumping Hole,

the rush of

cool breeze against my skin. Feet running,

pounding, crashing.

My eyes snapped open and sucked in deep breath. It

felt like was underwater, struggling to find my way to the

surface.

“What?” Adam asked, his eyes wide. “Did you remember

something?”

“Feet,” said. “Running and—”

The door to the room where the detectives had taken

our parents swung open with loud click-swoosh and the gruff voice of the detective, who reminded me of gorilla, chased my

found memory back into hiding.

All that was left was the fear. And the comfort of not

knowing.

They filed out of the room in pairs, the two detectives,

my mom and dad, Mr. and Mrs. Meacham. Our parents looked

like deflated shells of their usual selves. saw it in their eyes,

the way their heads hung low, how their shoulders slumped

with exhaustion, like two hours of this news was already too

much for them to bear. If there was hope there, masked by the

emotion that threatened to suck them under, couldn’t find it.

When they saw us, their feet stuttered. Stopped.

The long, flowy skirt my mother wore swayed around

her legs as if strong wind had just drifted through. heard

slight grunt escape Adam’s father’s lips.

The detectives just stared, taking us in.

Me.

Adam.

Our heads bowed together.

Hands clasped tight.

And the way we practically clung to each other like our

individual survival depended on the connection.

It was as if they’d been able to forget reality for

moment, to place it in the dark corner of high shelf while they

dealt with the formalities. But seeing Adam and me shifted

things, brought it all spilling down, nearly knocking them to the

ground.

“We’re very sorry for your loss, Maggie.” Detective

Wallace looked at me, creases wrinkling the loose skin on his

face. “Your parents told us that you and Joey had been dating

for the last two years.”

“ Almost two years.” pressed my fingers into my eyes,

realizing they were leaking again. “Would have been two years

this fall.”

My mother handed me

tissue, then placed hand on

my knee.

“We asked you here so you can help us piece together

the events of the day. We need you to tell us everything you

can about what led to Joey’s accident.” Detective Meyer shifted

in his seat. His large body strained the chair beneath him,

causing it to moan in protest.

took in shaky breath. “I can’t remember much,” said,

wishing they’d allowed Adam and me to be questioned

together, wondering what they’d asked him while he was

sitting at this very table with his own parents just ten minutes

ago. We’d passed one another as he exited the interrogation

room and entered, his eyes saying thousand things at once:

be calm; that was brutal; you can do this; hate these men.

He’d grabbed my hand and given it quick squeeze before the

detectives rushed him along with firm reminder that we were

to be questioned separately. And now, without Adam by my

side, felt lost.

My father cleared his throat, and

realized

hadn’t

really answered. “After the climb up the trail, everything just

kind of disappears.”

Detective Wallace’s mouth twitched, the thick gray

moustache on his upper lip looking like caterpillar wiggling

to free itself from

prison. “Your parents explained that

already, Maggie. Occasionally, in the event of

trauma,

person will suffer from memory loss. You’ll probably begin to

recall the day in bits and pieces. You can give us more

information as it returns to you. For now, we would like for

you to tell us what you do remember.”

looked from one detective to the other, hating the way

their eyes pierced my skin. “Okay.”

“Let’s start with the easy stuff.” Detective Meyer flipped

through

small spiral notebook and tugged

pen from the

inside pocket of his suit jacket. “When did you arrive at the

gorge?”

looked at my father whose face somehow seemed ten

years older than it had when he’d sat across the table from me

earlier in the morning as we ate

blueberry pancake and

bacon breakfast.

“It was little after eleven,” said. “We wanted to be all

set up by noon, to get the best sun.”

“And when you say ‘we,’ who are you referring to?”

Detective Wallace asked.

“Me, Tanna, Shannon, Pete, Adam, and

Joey.” My voice

broke when said his name.

“What would you say Joey’s demeanor was when you

arrived?”

“He was just Joey.” closed my eyes and remembered

the way the sunlight framed him after his first jump. He’d stood

above me, shaking water from his hair all over me as lay on

the towel. I’d giggled. Kicked him away. wanted to scream at

myself for that. should have pulled him closer and never let

go.

took in

deep slicing breath as

remembered his

smile. The sound of his laughter. “He was joking. Laughing. Like

always.”

“So you wouldn’t say he seemed depressed. Or angry

about anything? Maybe fight with his parents? His brother?

Or

anyone else?”

“No.”

blinked several times, something else in my

memory shifting just out of reach. “Summer’s about to start….

We’re almost seniors. He was as far from depressed as

person can get.”

“Can you walk us through the events leading to Joey’s

accident?” Detective Wallace asked. “Tell us everything you

remember?”

“We were just hanging out,” said. “Listening to music.

Tanna, Shannon, and were lying out on our towels, getting

into the water when we were too hot. The guys went up and

made several jumps. Tanna and Shannon jumped, too. Once

each, think.”

“But not you?” Detective Meyer asked, his eyebrows

pulling inward.

shook my head. “I’ve never jumped off the cliff.”

Detective Meyer jotted something down on the paper in

front of him, then looked me directly in the eyes. “Why not?”

shrugged. “Too afraid.”

“I see,” Detective Wallace said. “So what made you go up

with Joey? We were told that you intended to jump together. Is

this true?”

Shannon’s face flashed in front of me. dare you, she’d

taunted, giggle escaping her lips as she grabbed the bottle of

tequila planted at the head of the towels and took long swig.

“It was dare,” said. “I’ve tried to jump before. It’s like

running joke. That I’m too afraid.”

“Who dared you?” Detective Wallace asked.

“Shannon.”

Detective Meyer wrote the name in his notebook.

“And what made you decide to try again? What made

you feel like you could do it today?”

“I don’t know,” said, remembering Joey’s smile, the feel

of his skin sliding against mine as he tucked my arm against his

body and we began walking toward the bridge of rocks.

“Was it the alcohol?” Detective Meyer asked. “We found

bottle of tequila at the scene.”

The scene? cringed at the word. Blue Springs Gorge,

our most sacred hangout, had become crime scene.

“How much did Joey have to drink?” Detective Wallace

asked.

My eyes stuttered between the two men’s faces, their

features blurring into shadowy puzzle.

“We’ll find out for ourselves when the results from the

autopsy come back,” Detective Meyer said.

“Autopsy?” The word whirred through my brain,

flipping around and around. That meant they were going to cut

Joey open.

“Yes.” Detective Wallace’s lip twitched again and had

an urge to pluck the hairs from his face. “In the case of an

accidental death we always order an autopsy. And we run

through complete investigation.”

“He’d had little to drink,” said, recalling the way Joey

had stumbled as he walked out of the water the last time.

“Would you say he was intoxicated?” Detective Wallace

asked.

shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“You’re aware that we just finished interviewing your

friend Adam. He told us that Joey was

daredevil,” Detective

Wallace said with

sad smile. “That he often showed off,

performing stunts when he jumped from the cliff.”

pictured Joey at the top of the cliff, smiling down at us,

his arms spread wide. Watch this, he’d yelled just before disappearing. Seconds later, he reappeared, soaring out from

the lip of the cliff, his body circling over itself in flip before he slipped into the water with barely splash. Had that been his

second or third jump of the day?

“Yeah,” said. “Joey liked attention.”

“Can you describe your relationship with Joey?”

Detective Meyer asked. “Would you say that the two of you

were happy?”

closed my eyes briefly, remembering my plan to spend

the night with him in just few weeks. “We were very happy,”

said.

“What about your relationship with the rest of your

friends?” Detective Meyer asked. “It seems as if you are all very

close.”

My father cleared his throat. “These kids have all grown

up together, Detective. They’ve known one another since

kindergarten.”

“That’s lot of history.” Detective Wallace scrunched his

lips in sympathetic pout.

Detective Meyer scribbled more words on the paper in

front of him. wanted to rip the notepad out of his hand, to tear

the flimsy paper from the wire spiral. How could my life—and

Joey’s death—be whittled down to just few words?

“We’re trying to figure something out,” Detective

Wallace said. “And we’d like your help, Maggie.”

“Okay,” said, drawing the word out so it sounded more

like question.

“We don’t understand why you and Adam left the

scene.” Detective Meyer’s voice suddenly sounded very official.

Almost demanding.

My heart started beating more rapidly. felt hot. Stifling

hot. shifted in my seat, and my mother’s hand squeezed my

knee again.

“Maggie?” Detective Meyer said. “Can you explain that

for us?”

shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know why you left?” Detective Meyer’s voice

was tight with something

couldn’t place. Irritation. Maybe

anger. “Or you don’t know if you can explain it?”

“Adam was looking out for our daughter,” my mother

said. “He was the one to find her after Joey’s fall. Maggie was in shock, and it scared him when she claimed to have no memory

of what had happened. He thought it was best to bring her

straight home.”

The detectives looked at each other. Then they stared at

me.

“Can you tell us the first thing you remember?”

Detective Wallace asked. “ After Joey’s fall?”

looked at the table in front of me, my eyes following

the swirls in the wood, shuffling through the memories had,

trying to categorize them into before and after

“The seat belt clicking into place,” said. “Adam’s hand.”

“Adam put your seat belt on?” Detective Meyer asked.

“Good. That’s very good. What else?”

“The quilt my grandmother made. Spread across my lap.

And whispering.”

“That was right after she came home,” my mother said.

“She sat on the couch while Adam told us what happened.”

“You must be grateful that Adam is such caring young

man,” Detective Meyer said, looking at my parents.

“Yes.” My mother straightened herself in her chair and

smoothed one hand down the side of her brown hair. “We feel

very fortunate that our daughter had someone looking out for

her best interests today.”

Detective Meyer leaned forward, his hulking chest

creating shadow on the table in front of him, blanketing the

words he’d written on the paper.

looked at my dad. He steepled his fingers under his

chin. “Can you explain what happens from here? You said

something about an autopsy?”

The detectives exchanged

glance, and then turned to

my father. “Yes. Though this appears, in all respects, to be an

accidental death, it’s standard to open an official investigation.

It is our job to learn everything we can about exactly what

happened today so we can consider everything that might have led to the accident.” Detective Wallace spread his hands in the

air.

Detective Meyer agreed with

curt nod. “We will be

searching Joey’s car and bedroom, looking over his phone

records, and cross-referencing the statements from all of our

interviews, which will also include friends who were not at the

scene, to get the most detailed picture of his last twenty-four

hours. Only then can we close the investigation.”

“So—” said, trying to think of anything but the words

that were ringing through my head: death accident autopsy

“This is, like, full-on investigation?”

“Yes,” Detective Wallace said. “It is.”

My mother’s fingers dug into my knee.

“And we have one more very important question for you

at this time.” Detective Meyer looked directly into my eyes.

“Where was Joey last night?”

“A party,” said with sigh. “We were all at the party.”

“Yes.” Detective Wallace nodded. “Jimmy Dutton’s.

We’re aware of the party.”

“We’d like to know where Joey was after the party,”

Detective Meyer said.

“He took me home,”

said. “And then dropped off

Shannon and Pete. He was probably home by twelve thirty.”

The two detectives stared at me. Hard. And then they

looked at each other.

was almost certain that Detective

Wallace shrugged his shoulders, but the movement was so

slight couldn’t be sure.

Something inside me started to backpedal, like

was

mentally trying to escape. But didn’t move fast enough.

“No”—Detective Meyer cleared his throat and turned

his eyes to me again—“Joey did not make it home last night.”

My thoughts stretched back to the previous evening,

which now felt like it had happened in some alternate lifetime.

went back to the kiss on my front porch. Watching Joey drive

away. Hearing the music stream from the windows of his truck.

What would have kept him from going home?

“I’m not sure that understand why this is important.”

My mother sat forward in her seat, tipping her head sideways.

“What does last night have to do with today’s accident?”

“As already explained, Mrs. Reynolds, we’re trying to

construct detailed time line of Joey’s last twenty-four hours

of life.” Detective Meyer watched me closely as he spoke. “It’s

standard procedure,

assure you. We simply need to know

where Joey was during the overnight hours.”

“There’s

mistake, or something.” shook my head. “I

already told you. Joey dropped me off little after midnight. He

took Shannon and Pete home. And then he went home.”

Detective Wallace shook his head slowly. “No, Maggie.

He did not go home.”

“He said …” Everything in my head jumbled together.

wasn’t sure if

knew anything anymore. If Joey was out all

night, why hadn’t he said anything? We’d hung out at the gorge

for hours; Joey had plenty of opportunities to share if he’d been

out all night doing something crazy. It’s the kind of thing he’d

usually brag about…. But he hadn’t mentioned thing. “He had

to have been at home.”

Detective Meyer leaned toward me, lowering his voice.

“We’ve spoken with his parents. They are certain that he spent

the night out, and that he wasn’t where he said he would be.”

“Maggie, do you have any idea where he might have

gone?” Detective Wallace asked. “Or who he might have been

with?”

opened my mouth, searching for anything that might

answer the very same questions that had started to spin

around in my own mind. But had no answers, so all that came

out was choppy, stuttering sound that hardly reminded me of

my own voice.

“This is an awful lot to take in,” my mother said,

squeezing my knee again. “If Maggie remembers anything, we’ll

be sure to call you.” From my mother’s tone, it was obvious

that the conversation was over. But suddenly didn’t want it to

be.

“You’re sure he didn’t go home?” asked, focusing on the

sound of the words tumbling out of me instead of the fact that,

if they were true, it meant Joey had been keeping some kind of

secret.

Both detectives nodded, eyes trained on me. “Positive,”

Detective Wallace answered.

looked down at my hands, squeezing them together so

tightly they turned sickly whitish-blue. wasn’t sure if was

angry with Joey for keeping

secret or glad to realize that

maybe he could go on living through all the little things didn’t

yet know. Things that could easily find out.

“I assume it is standard, in cases like this, for people to

obtain lawyers,” my father said, placing hand on my shoulder.

“If you believe you may need to question Margaret again, we

will certainly call our attorney.”

“That would be fine with us.” Detective Wallace met my

father’s eyes.

“Just so you know,” Detective Meyer said, “we will be

requesting that Maggie undergo

medical and psychological

exam in the next week or so.”

“I’m not hurt.”

pushed my chair back, standing,

wavering little, and placed my hand on the table for balance.

“I don’t need to see doctor.”

“But, Maggie, you are suffering from memory loss,”

Detective Wallace said. “This might actually help you.”

“We will have our lawyer contact you for any further

directions.” My father stood, his chair scraping along the tiles

of the floor.

My mother grabbed her purse from the floor and flung it

onto her arm before she got to her feet.

Placing hand on my back, my father led me toward the

door. But was still shaky and moved slowly as tried to figure

out what Joey could have been doing all night without me.

The detectives stood before I’d rounded the corner of

the table. My fingers trailed the looping grain of the wood, and

for some reason didn’t want to lose my connection with that

cool surface.

But then saw something that made me feel like racing

from the room. As the detectives buttoned their suit jackets,

like men always do when they stand, sneaked peek at their

full uniforms, which hadn’t really seemed like uniforms at all,

since they were dressed like businessmen. But businessmen

don’t have handcuffs strapped to their waists, badges making

their pockets bulge, or guns stuffed into holsters at their hips.

Suddenly, every fuzzy quality that had made the day feel

like dream slipped away from my consciousness. It was like

broke the surface of the water, my sight and hearing clearing in

an instant. And for the first time since the accident, everything

felt excruciatingly real.

Especially the thought of myself, alone in bed, while Joey

was out in the dark night doing things without me. Things he

obviously didn’t want me to know about. And the gaping

emptiness where my memories ought to be—memories of

Joey’s last moments on this earth, of our last moments

together. There was so much that

suddenly needed to

uncover, no matter the cost. Because learning all the things

didn’t already know, finding few more slices of life when Joey

was with us, even if it only helped for

little while, was the

only way could cheat my way out of his death.

Дата добавления: 2015-10-23