Stanzi—Monday Two Weeks Later—Project Evidence
Gustav built a helicopter in his garage and no one believed it.
But today, he’s going to fly it to school and show them. I’ll be on the bench in front of the WELCOME sign, sitting upside down like China does. I’ll be wearing my lab coat because no one in my group therapy thinks it’s weird and they tell me Whatever works.
Thwap-thwap-thwap.
As I walk toward Gustav’s house, I see that the bush man Kenneth has decorated his entire yard with sculptures. They are nudes of Patricia. There are forty of them, at least. I see him and Patricia sitting behind the bush having tea and they wave me over.
“We’ve thanked Gustav, but couldn’t thank you,” they say.
“You don’t need to thank me,” I say.
“Yes. Yes, we do.”
“I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know where we were going. I didn’t know we were coming back. I didn’t even know that you weren’t a dangerous man,” I say, looking at Kenneth. “And I didn’t even know you existed,” I say to Patricia.
“You saved my life,” Patricia says.
“I don’t think I did,” I say.
Thwap-thwap-thwap.
I didn’t tell my group about the invisible helicopter because it’s sacred. It’s something I didn’t want to talk about. When the question came about my “disappearance” with Gustav the week before, I told them they were outrageous and that I hadn’t disappeared at all. I told them Gustav loves me and I love Gustav.
I told Mama and Pop, too, and Mama said we are all headed for the looney tunes. When she said that, I asked her what was so wrong with the looney tunes.
She answered, “I don’t know.” She answered, “People talk.”
“What about the master list?” I asked. “It’s like going to the looney tunes over and over again. What good does it do?”
“It does us good,” Mama said.
“It shows us that we’re not alone,” Pop added.
I told them Dr. Sidney-from-M*A*S*H wants to do family therapy. They told me they are looking forward to it. We’ll start next week. I’ll start by telling them that visiting those places makes me feel more alone, not less alone. I’ll tell them I don’t want to go anymore. I’ll show the doctor my snow globe collection. He’ll probably recommend that I throw it away. And then I’ll tell them about Ruth and how she didn’t know what a wombat was and I’ll massage my neck and maybe, just maybe, it will work.
When Gustav flies to school and lands the helicopter in the football field, several students point to it. It’s Monday, so I can’t see it. But they can. One of them is a girl from my bio lab and I wonder if she’ll be the woman Gustav marries.
China and Lansdale see me on the bench and they sit down on either side of me. They do not sit upside down like I sit. Lansdale has a pixie haircut. It’s new and cute and none of us talk about it.
“I think Gustav should love a woman who can see his helicopter every day,” I say. “Don’t you think that would be fairer?”
“Fairer to whom?” China asks.
“To Gustav.”
Lansdale says, “I read a lot about this stuff. Nowhere does it say that a wife must see her husband’s helicopter every day of the week.”
“You are the expert,” I say.
“Plus, love doesn’t just show up and disappear. Not real love,” she says. “I’ve known enough Mrs. Cruises to know that some people just show up and don’t have any love at all. They just have needs.”
“Irenic Brown,” China says.
“No. I mean Irenic Brown,” she says. “He’s coming over here.”
I stay in my position with my hair dangling in the grass beneath the bench. China tenses. Lansdale runs her hand through her hair and says, “I’ll take care of this.”
Irenic stands there staring at Stanzi. “It’s good to see you back, Stanzi,” he says. “We were worried about you.”
“You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” Lansdale says.
China stays quiet. She doesn’t look like she’ll swallow herself from down here.
Lansdale continues. “You’re a piece of shit who doesn’t understand anything. You think you’re so powerful now? We talk, you know.”
“We take screenshots, too,” I say, upside down.
“You don’t have to be so mean about it,” he says.
“The guilt will eat you,” China says.
“You will suffer for the rest of your life,” I say.
“If some daughter’s father doesn’t kill you first,” Lansdale says.
Irenic Brown walks away.
Maybe he didn’t know until now that he was feeling guilty. Maybe he didn’t know that he should.
When first bell rings, there is no announcement about a drill. The police car is not stationed outside. Mr. Man-with-a-Gun’s parking space is empty.
I get to be Mr. Bio’s helper all day. My obsession with biology is something I’m supposed to work on, except I can’t go into the back lab without staring at the animals in the formaldehyde jars.
Mr. Bio discovers this and takes me to another small lab. He shows me a box.
“I have a project for you,” he says. “If you want it.”
“Okay,” I say.
He opens the box. It is full of Ziploc bags. Each bag contains an item and has a pink note stapled to the outside.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” he says.
He hands me a box of latex gloves and a clipboard with sheets of paper clipped in. I’m still looking into the box. I see a Baggie with something familiar in it.
It’s a frog liver, a hex nut from a helicopter kit, and a lock of blond hair.