It was all coming apart.
That’s what Evan felt.
The whole world was going crazy, or maybe it was just his little piece of the world, he couldn’t say. All he knew was that everything felt different, upside down.
There was this line from a poem he’d read in eighth grade that went: “Things fall apart; the center cannot hold.” Once he’d heard those words he’d never been able to get them out of his head, and he knew why. The weekend after his class had studied that poem he and Callie had been sent to stay with their aunt and uncle in Connecticut. When they returned home late Sunday afternoon, their parents were changed, different. It was the beginning of the closed doors and long silences.
Things fall apart.
It was eleven o’clock. He had come down to the beach by himself because Callie was still sleeping and their mother didn’t want her to be in the house alone. Callie had hardly slept the night before. She couldn’t sleep, she said, without the photograph. Their mother, holding Callie in her lap and stroking her hair, had said to her it was only a snapshot, they probably had the negative at home; assured her she still had a family, there would be no divorce. And Callie had said through her tears, “I almost believe you.”
But in the middle of the night, Callie had come to Evan. “I had a bad dream. It was the house where the sad music was playing. Remember from last week? When you and me and Sarah went biking?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I was inside that house. I mean, not really, because I don’t know what it’s like in there since I’ve never been in there for real, but you know how in your dreams everything makes sense.” Evan acknowledged that he did. “So I was inside the house and it was dark and this sad music was playing, like somebody had died, and I was the only one there and I kept going through all these doors and I couldn’t find anybody. And I was getting more and more scared all the time. And then there was one last door. And the singing—remember how it was a woman singing that time we heard it?—well, the singing was coming from behind that door. I went to open it, and just when I did it changed to crying. Then I woke up.”
When Evan had finally fallen back to sleep somewhere after four, he could tell from Callie’s breathing that she was still awake. He remembered hearing her say (or perhaps he dreamed it),"Evan, do you know what I wish?” But he had no memory of her answer. She must have gone back to her own bed at some point because when he woke up in the morning, he was alone.
“My shawl is missing, too,” his mother said in place of good morning when he found her on the porch, coffee mug in hand, rocking.
“Did you move the kite?” he asked her. The day before, he had left it leaning against the rocker.
“No,” she said. And then: “I think I’d better call the police.”
Evan was sure he knew who the thief was. “I’ll take care of it,” he told his mother. I won’t be one of these very yellow guys. And for some reason, she agreed to let him.
Evan had expected to find Shane on the beach, but was glad when he wasn’t there. It gave him time to think about what he would say.
Give them back, Shane. You had your fun, your “entertainment value.” Now give them back! Or I’ll . . . I’ll break your face. I’ll hurt you, Shane, I swear it. I don’t care if you’re stronger than me or if you’ve got your stupid gang. I won’t let you hurt my sister or my mother. You can’t take their things. I don’t care about the kite, keep the stupid kite, but give back the other stuff. Come on, do it! Do it now, Shane, or ...
Evan looked over at the lifeguard stand for the tenth time that morning. Chris still wasn’t there. Evan needed him to be.
Hey, Chris, teach me how to be a hero.
But Chris was missing in action. So, Evan noticed, was the watcher.
Where was everybody?
Was everybody sick?
Hey, Chris!
Hey, watcher-girl!
Hey, Dad!
His father was missing, too, had gone home, wouldn’t say when he was coming back even though there was only a week left of vacation. Evan’s mother kept saying everything would be fine, they loved each other, it was grown-up stuff, sorry she couldn’t tell them what was going on, there would be no divorce, everything would be fine.
“I almost believe you,” Callie had said.
Shane had stolen their things, had come right into their house and stolen their things, had even picked up the phone when his father called.
Hey Shane . . .
What would he really say to Shane?
The thought of it made him feel sick. He pictured Shane surrounded by his gang. The boys in black. It looked in his mind like a scene from a movie. Problem was, Evan was no kick-boxer, no karate-chopper, no quick-draw good guy who could wipe out the bad guys singlehanded.
He would go to Shane’s house. Maybe he’d get lucky and Shane would be alone. It would be easier if it was just the two of them. Shane probably had the stuff at his house, anyway. He would just turn it over.
“No big deal,” he’d say. “It was just for fun, man. Lighten up.”
Evan checked out the lifeguard stand. Jenny was sitting up there next to some guy who wasn’t Chris. Evan needed to talk to Chris. Chris would know what to do.
Suddenly he was at the base of the stand, not exactly looking up at the guards but not exactly not looking up. “Excuse me,” he said.
“Sorry?” It was Jennys voice. “Did you say something?”
Evan raised his head. “I was wondering, do you know where the other lifeguard is, you know, the one you usually work with?”
“Chris?”
“I guess.” Evan hated when he said I guess when he knew perfectly well what he was talking about. It was like the time he’d asked Shane what his name was when he already knew.
“Chris is gone,” Jenny said.
“Where is he?” Evan asked, not letting himself make sense of what Jenny was telling him.
Jenny said, “He’s gone. Home.”
“Home?” Evan repeated.
“You need something?” the other guard asked. “No.”
“Did you need to talk to Chris?” Jenny asked.
“No. I mean, I sort of did, but it’s okay. That’s okay.”
Evan started to walk away when Jenny’s voice stopped him.
“He might still be here,” she called out. “I think he said he was going to take the one o’clock ferry. If it’s important...”
Evan turned to her. His face must have given her the answer because she went on without waiting for him to speak. “His house is on Neptune,” she told him, “the second one in from the bay.”