6. Figuring It Out

I can hear the music blasting from the cabin even before I head up the steps to the front door.

Maybe I should be afraid, but this doesn’t scare me. For some reason I think it might be Newt, or someone else I haven’t seen for a while. Maybe Poe. Or maybe—well, maybe ghosts like to hear some tunes as well. So do mannequins.

The music is seriously loud by the time I reach the top of the stairs and look inside my bedroom. Sitting slumped on my bed is Uncle Robert, an orange album resting on his chest. He doesn’t look surprised or even mildly interested in talking as I stand before the door.

The singer is talking about a sweet and tender hooligan. Robert eventually nods and then waves as if he wants to finish this song, which we do. He hands me the album, and I see that it’s Louder Than Bombs by The Smiths. It makes me think of the first day I attended Harrington High and the trio of girls that came up to me because of my T-shirt.

That seems like ten years ago.

Robert turns down the volume but doesn’t shut the music off. For a moment I think he’s going to remark about how bad my face looks, but he doesn’t say a word about it.

“This makes me think of my high school days,” Robert says, looking at the record cover. “These guys spoke the things I felt. It was like they somehow were singing for me.”

I don’t say anything.

Guess Iris was right about my face and the magical mystery potion.

“So have you enjoyed listening to my records? And wearing my clothes?”

“Why have you been watching us? Why have you been hiding?”

He rolls his eyes and sits up.

Morrissey says “That’s the story of my life” as another song fades away. Uncle Robert just nods and ignores my question.

“I just talked to Staunch downtown,” I tell him.

And, oh yeah, his phone has bits of my cheek lodged into its keys.

“What did he say about Tara?”

“He said he’d kill her.”

Robert rubs his dark stubble. “Well, that’s good.”

“That’s good?”

“Yeah. It means she’s not dead.”

“Spoken with such emotion.”

My uncle curses. “Don’t give me that. I didn’t have to drive back down here, you know. I’ve saved your life twice now. I’m not cut out to be anybody’s guardian angel, especially yours.”

“I didn’t ask you to be.”

He laughs at me. “What a sad look.” Again with a curse. “You’re just like your mother.”

Robert stands and turns off the stereo. He glances around the room. “There was a time I thought I’d never see any of this again.”

“Why?”

He pats me on the shoulder as he passes. “Come on—let’s go downstairs. You hungry for some lunch?”

“No.”

But actually I am pretty hungry.

“Well, I’m thirsty, and if we’re going to talk, I’m going to need a drink.”

Robert has that unhealthy look that Mom was starting to have when she drank too much—pale and thin and messy. He holds a can of beer in his hand, and I wonder where he got it from.

“You sure you’re not hungry?” he asks as he sits on the couch across from me.

“Are you staying here now?”

He shrugs. His eyes look at me, but they don’t really connect. They seem distant and busy.

“I don’t know what’s happening. I tried, Chris. I really tried.”

“Tried what?”

“To keep you guys okay. To look out for you.” He sips his beer, and then somehow the can seems to be empty. “I’ve been looking out for people ever since I came to this place.”

Those same eyes are now glassy, and I can’t tell if it’s from sadness or from the booze.

“You want to know something? I was the one who put that gun in your locker.”

For a second I forget that it ever happened. But then I remember being called into the principal’s office and getting kicked out of school.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Because—the very thing you needed was to draw attention to yourself. To not fit in. I knew they’d find out it wasn’t yours. It was like I was sending them a message.”

“What? That I was going to shoot someone?”

Robert laughs. “No. That I’m just as serious as they are. Plus—I needed you and your mom to bond.”

“So you got me kicked out, huh?”

“It worked, right?”

I recall Mom taking my side and threatening the principal and teachers.

“Yeah, I guess so. In a weird way.”

“The thing they wanted from the very start was for you to fit in. To make friends and have a good ole time and feel nice and comfortable and then begin to learn the truth. But …”

“But what?” I ask.

“Well, you chose to fall for pretty much the worst person you could have fallen for.”

I get a small fire going in the fireplace and then sit on the hearth. Uncle Robert grabs another beer from the fridge.

“Do you know everything that’s happening?” I ask.

“I thought that moving here would give me the answers I needed.” He leans back on the couch and sighs. “Boy, was I wrong.”

“Why did you move back here?”

“Because I wanted to know what happened to my parents. Why my mom died when I was just a kid. I wanted to find out what happened to her, because I’ve never bought the whole car crash thing. Just like I never believed Dad was shot by some random thug when I was in college.”

“Did it have something to do with this place?”

“Ya think?” He takes a long draw of his beer, then wipes his mouth and curses. “It all comes back to this place. And back to our family. Really majorly sucks, doesn’t it?”

“But why did you disappear?”

“If you could vanish now, would you? Knowing that nobody would get hurt? Knowing that everybody would be okay? Would you?”

I think about it and nod.

“But I—it’s been confusing. I came back here and didn’t have anybody else. I wanted answers, and I wanted to fix things. But instead I got shackled down. In the end, it all went away.”

I’m not following him. “Are you talking about Mrs. Marsh?”

Robert groans and crinkles up the beer can, then tosses it into the fire. “Please. Don’t call her that. I mean, like ever again.”

“Okay, then—Heidi.”

“I tried to rescue her. I just didn’t know how hard it would be. I was doing something good, but it killed me inside because I also knew I was doing something wrong. But I loved her.”

“She’s still around.”

“I know,” Robert says. “But she made it clear. She chose to stay. We were going to leave, but she just couldn’t. That monster has some kind of hold on her.”

“Staunch?”

“Marsh. The little leper-healer. That’s what I call him. The whack-job with the glasses. That guy—I’m telling you, you stay away from him.”

“Did they tell you about everything? About our—your grandfather?”

“They wanted me to become like them, and I said no way. But then—they really thought they’d gotten rid of me. But I wasn’t going to leave Heidi. I can’t.” He pauses, looking into the fire and watching the crackling wood. “Then you guys show up and ruin everything.”

“How?”

“They destroyed my family. Our family. This sickness—this evil. And they wanted to do the same with you two. All because what? Because your mom had to get some answers. Just like her big brother.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

He stands and then leans over the couch. “Do you really want to know? I spend every hour of every day wondering if I’ve lost my mind. I drink to keep the nightmares away. You know that, right? That’s why your mother came down here and started drinking like a fish. She couldn’t help herself. And you …” He examines me for a moment. “You don’t drink, huh?”

“Not really,” I say.

“I want to say don’t start, but—but look. I have no suggestions for you.”

“You have to help me.”

“How can I help someone else when I can’t even help myself?” Uncle Robert curses, then goes to the fridge again. “The things I’ve seen—you don’t want to see them.”

I sit there, watching this man I barely know, wondering what I’m supposed to say or do to help him.

I’m seventeen and unsure how to help myself.

Another voice tells me to shut up, that I’m different.

You’re stronger, Chris. You’ve always been strong.

“What’s going to happen?” I ask Robert when he sits down again.

“I don’t know. But it’s something big. And I don’t want to be around here to find out.”

“I have to do what they tell me.”

He only nods.

This guy is the nodding man. And it’s really making me angry.

“Aren’t you supposed to, like, help out a little?” I ask.

“Don’t get annoyed at me. Listen, I was here sorting all of this out by myself. Okay?”

“So I’m supposed to just do what I’m told by those guys?”

“For now.”

“Until what?” I ask. “Until you finish enough beer not to care anymore?”

Uncle Robert yells at me and tells me what I can do with my frustration, then he sighs and apologizes.

“Listen, Chris. I thought if they didn’t know I was around … I didn’t realize that they’d given up on me. I’m a lost cause to them. But you—you’re their last hope. You’re like their Luke Skywalker.”

“Why?”

“Because—I think they know how strong you are.”

I shake my head.

“It’s true, Chris. Look at all this you’ve been dealing with. By yourself. Just a kid. I would’ve freaked out if this all happened to me at sixteen. But you managed. And you’re still managing. And that’s why—-you keep it up. Okay? Until we know Tara is okay.”

“And then?”

“We’ll figure it out then,” he says.

“And what happens if she’s not?”

“We’ll figure it out then.”