The sun was setting behind the mountains across the lake, and a cool wind blew through the trees as Therese made her way down her gravelly drive to the dirt road leading to the Holts’ place. She could hear her sneakers crunching against the pebbles and dirt, so she was invisible but not sound proof.
The horses were still out to pasture when she crept up the drive to the house where the one goat was tied to the rail by the front steps bleating like a child who hadn’t been fed. A branch danced in the wind and scraped against the logs of the house, but, other than the bleating goat and the scraping tree, all was quiet.
Therese snuck to the back of the house and peered through the open window. She could see Mrs. Holt standing in the middle of the kitchen with her arms crossed, and then her hand moved to her mouth and stuck a fingernail between her teeth. She leaned against the kitchen sink like she was tired but too tense to sit down. Her bowl-shaped blonde-gray hair looked greasy, and the wrinkles in her face deeper than ever. Suddenly she walked across the kitchen, opened a cabinet, and took down a pack of cigarettes. She took the last from the pack and ditched the empty box in the trash. Her hands shook as she lit the end of the cigarette and sucked.
Bobby’s voice cried, “But he’s reformed now! He went to therapy! He said so himself!”
Therese couldn’t see Bobby. She saw Pete leaning against the mantle of the fireplace. He wore a pair of ragged jeans and boots. His tight gray t-shirt was too short, like it belonged to Bobby and he had put in on by accident. He looked tired but tense, and as he ran his hand through his hair, Therese had the feeling he’d been doing that motion all evening. “I just don’t know,” Pete said. “Mom, how do we know it won’t happen again?”
Now she saw Bobby standing by the front door entryway with his hands open, like he was begging everyone to listen to him. He had a look of anguish and desperation, and again he said, “He went to therapy, Pete! He won’t do it again!”
That’s when she heard Mr. Holt say, “Y’all just think about it. Sleep on it. I’ll come again tomorrow, see what y’all think. I’ll go on back to the hotel now. Where’s Jen?”
“She won’t come out,” Mrs. Holt said without looking up from the kitchen floor. “Just leave her be.”
Then Therese saw Mr. Holt get up from wherever he had been sitting toward the back of their living room and walk to the entryway. He looked thin and old, and he didn’t stand up straight. His gray hair made a shaggy ring around a glossy bald spot on top of his head. Bobby threw his arms around him before he had made it to the door.
“I’ve missed you, Daddy,” Bobby cried. “I want you to stay. I know you can do it. I believe in you.”
Mr. Holt hugged his son. He held the embrace for nearly a whole minute, his thin bowed figure looking slight beside his younger son. He said through tears, “I love you, Bobby. I love all my kids.” Then he walked out without turning back to Pete or Mrs. Holt.
Mrs. Holt continued to lean against the kitchen sink and suck on her cigarette. Pete held himself up by the mantle. Bobby paced back and forth near the front door, seeming to fight an urge to run out and chase down his father. After several minutes of this, Mrs. Holt cried out, “Jen, come on out. He’s gone now.”
Therese watched Jen come down the stairs and walk straight into her mother’s arms. Her eyes were red and swollen, her face pale, and her hair sticking out in all directions. She sobbed as she spoke. “I’m scared, Mom. Seeing him made it all come back. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t.”
Mrs. Holt held her cigarette away from her daughter with one hand and patted Jen’s back with the other.
“He’s reformed, Jen!” Bobby cried. “He hasn’t had a drink in over a year. He only did those things when he was drunk.”
“Leave her alone, Bobby,” Pete muttered. “It didn’t happen to you.”
“It’s her fault he left in the first place!” Bobby shouted. “If she’d only forgiven him!”
“That’s enough!” Mrs. Holt snarled. “It’s not her fault.”
“And it’s Pete’s fault for telling!” Bobby cried.
“That’s enough, Bobby!” Mrs. Holt snarled again, like a cornered animal.
“Mom,” Jen said in small, shaky voice. “I think it’s going to have to be him or me, and what I want to know is, who would you choose?”
“You, baby doll, every time,” Mrs. Holt smoothed Jen’s hair with a jittery hand. Then she lifted Jen’s chin and asked, “But what I want to know is this: Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance? Can we just give it this one try?” Mrs. Holt put the trembling cigarette to her lips and sucked.
Jen looked like she was wilting, like she was a flower that would never stand straight in the vase again.
Therese sat outside of Jen’s house in a wrought iron chair and watched the sun set behind the mountains across the lake. She wanted to knock on the door and talk to Jen, but she was afraid. She didn’t know if Jen would feel like talking. So she sat there watching the sun sink behind the mountains, the hawks swoop back to their nests, and the deer come out of the trees. While she sat looking around, she thought how cruel and beautiful, how sweet and ugly, the world could be. She missed her parents, but was glad to have Than; she was sorry for Jen that her dad had returned, but was glad for Bobby; she was sad for Vicki, but was glad her mother had found a way out of whatever pain life had brought her. Vicki’s mom would go down to Erebus and forget everything and spend the rest of eternity in the Elysian Fields living whatever delusions of grandeur her soul desired. In Cairo, the sun was getting ready to rise over the Great Sphinx, and a new day would be dawning for Egypt, while here the sun was barely visible, and now, altogether gone behind the mountains.
“Let’s bring those horses in before dark,” Mrs. Holt said coming out of the house.
Therese froze. No one seemed to notice her. She watched the four forlorn figures make their way out to pasture.
While they were gone, she removed the crown and waited for Jen to get back. She had an idea. She knew what she should do.
"Artemis, if you can hear me, I hope you won’t be offended by what I’m about to do."
Jen was the last of the Holts to make it back to the house, and none of them spoke a word till they spotted Therese sitting in that wrought iron chair on the side of the house, the bleating goat eyeing her from around the corner.
Pete was the first to spot her, and his face lit up like lighter fluid. "Therese! What a nice surprise." He fell into the chair beside her. The smile on his face couldn’t erase the lines of worry or make him look less tired, but it was a small improvement.
"Hey, Pete."
The others caught up, one at a time, like they’d been walking in their own private worlds.
"Hey, Bobby," Therese said.
"Hey, Therese." Bobby kept walking into the house.
Mrs. Holt was next, and then came Jen, barely moving, like every step hurt.
"What’s that you have in your hands?" Mrs. Holt stood, slight and bent, in front of her.
"Part of an old costume," Therese said. "I wanted to show it to Jen."
"It looks so real," Mrs. Holt said. "May I?"
She extended her leathery hands out for it, and Therese felt a panic coming on. What if Mrs. Holt put it on her head and everyone saw its effect? But what could Therese do, tell the poor woman no, you can’t hold my crown?
Therese gave it to Mrs. Holt. Her heart thudded so loudly she thought for once the goat’s bleating would be drowned out.
Mrs. Holt turned it around in her hands as Jen looked over her mother’s shoulder. "It’s so beautiful. It looks so…authentic. That must be some costume you have." Mrs. Holt handed it back, and Therese inwardly sighed with relief.
"Hey, Jen. Can I come up and visit with you awhile?"
Jen looked at her mother.
"Fine with me," her mother said.
Pete followed her into the house. When she glanced back at him, he smiled at her. He didn’t seem to mind she was here to see Jen. He was just glad she was here.
Upstairs in Jen’s bedroom, Therese kicked off her shoes and sat on the bedspread crisscross with the crown in her lap. Jen sat against a pile of pillows stacked by the headboard. Jen’s eyes were still swollen and her face pale, and Therese noticed she had a sore on the corner of her mouth.
"I have something to show you," Therese said, her hands trembling a little. "Don’t freak out, okay?"
"I can’t promise anything."
"Listen, before I show you, let me explain. This is a special gift. I know this is going to sound crazy, but it has a special power. I’m not giving this to you, but I want to loan it to you."
"Therese, you’re making it hard not to freak out. What are you talking about?"
Therese licked her lips. "First you have to promise me, I mean swear on our friendship and all you hold sacred, that you will never tell another soul about this."
"Okay, I’m officially freaked now."
"I’m serious."
"Me, too."
Therese sighed. "Don’t be scared. I promise I wouldn’t give you anything that could hurt you."
"Okay. I promise to keep your secret."
Therese’s heart sped up as she lifted the crown toward her head. "Just watch what happens. And don’t scream, okay?"
Jen nodded.
Therese put the crown on her head.
"Jesus! What the heck?"
"Sssh. Not too loud, Jen. I don’t want your whole family running in here."
"Oh my God!" Jen jumped off the bed and backed into the corner of her room. "Okay, I’m really, really freaked. Where are you?" Jen accidentally bumped a stack off books off her table, then lost her balance and fell on the floor beside the strewn books. “Where are you?”
"I’m still here." Therese removed the crown from her head. "You want to try?"
Jen blinked. "This can’t be happening." She carefully stood back up, her whole body trembling.
"Go on. Take it to your mirror and watch what happens."
With trembling hands, Jen took the crown from Therese and walked over to her mirror and placed the crown on her head.
"Holy crap!" Jen removed the crown. Then she returned it to her head. "Oh my holy crap!"
"Your crap ain’t holy, Jen."
The two girls laughed, only one of them visible.
Jen took the crown off and turned to Therese. "Where’d you get this?"
"I can’t tell. It’s a secret."
Jen kept putting the crown on and off her head and watching her reflection disappear and reappear several more times. “I still can’t believe it. I must be dreaming.”
"I want to loan this to you because I was thinking…" she struggled to find the right words, "I was thinking that if your dad moves back home, you could wear this crown when you feel like disappearing."
Jen took the crown from her head and turned and looked at Therese, then her eyes gradually moved upward toward the ceiling, like she was figuring math. A smile curled onto her face and her eyes grew wide. Tears welled. She crossed the room and threw her arms around Therese. "I love you." Then she went back to the mirror, stood up a little straighter, and tried on the crown one more time.
The wind had picked up when Therese left the Holts’ and walked down their property to the dirt road. Pete had offered to drive her—had practically begged—but Therese had said she wanted to walk, so Mrs. Holt had given her a flashlight and made her promise to call when she got there. Carol would freak if she knew, but of course Carol didn’t know that the bad guys weren’t after Therese. And without her invisibility crown, Therese would have to be extra careful when she reentered the house.
"Hold on, Therese!" Pete’s voice called from the end of his gravelly drive. "Wait up a minute."
Therese stopped and shined her light on the ground in front of Pete, so he could see. He looked tall and muscular when he wasn’t standing next to Than.
He came up close beside her, and the scent of him was strangely comforting. "Ooh, that wind is something, huh? A northern must be blowing in. Hey, you cold?"
"I’m okay." She was cold, and although it would feel good if he put his arm around her, it wouldn’t be good for him. She should be discouraging him.
"You look pretty tonight. That a new shirt?"
She smoothed down the front of her purple knit top. "I’ve had it a while. Thanks." Then she looked at his shirt. "That Bobby’s?"
"What? Oh, yeah. I’m behind on my laundry." Even in the darkness, Therese could see his face color.
“You do your own laundry? That’s impressive,” she teased.
“Yep. My mother is a slave driver.” Then his voice softened. “Not really. She just wants us all to know how to take care of ourselves.”
Therese nodded. “That’s good.”
"Hey, so how’s Than? Seen him lately?"
Therese’s heart contracted a little harder as she looked at Pete, and she felt sorry for him. She didn’t want to add any more pain to his suffering. With his dad coming back and Bobby’s anguish and Jen’s trepidation, she knew Pete was hurting. She wished she could help. She felt guilty that she couldn’t. "I saw Than earlier. He’s, um, he’s running an errand for his parents today." Never had that line seemed so literal.
Pete nodded. "I see." Then he asked, "He’s leaving soon, right?"
Therese looked at the dirt road beneath their feet. "Yeah, I think so. In another week or so."
Then Pete dug the toe of his boot into the dirt and said, "I guess you heard about my dad."
Therese saw the pain in his face, his need for human affection and understanding, and she wanted to help. "Oh, Pete. I’m so sorry about all that. I wish I could…"
He put his arms around her and held her tight. "You’re a sweetheart for saying that, but there’s nothing anybody can do." With his face in her hair, he breathed in deeply, like he was taking in her scent, and then he released her with his breath. "It was good to see you again. Come by more often, okay?"
She felt guilty for feeling good in his arms. She had always liked Pete. If Than hadn’t come into her life, he would have been a natural partner for her. "I will." Then she watched him turn and head back up the drive. She sighed and headed home.
Therese was glad she had been able to help Jen, but she knew the situation around the Holt family would be tense for a while, maybe even forever. She didn’t know exactly what it was Mr. Holt had done to his daughter when he was drunk, but her imagination made her shudder. Bobby had said that Pete was the one who had told, so that meant Jen hadn’t. Therese now wondered how long Jen had kept silent. She also wondered how miserable it had made Pete to rat out his own father in order to protect his sister.
A low roar, like a train, came from the lake. Therese shined the small circle of light across the grassy field toward the reservoir. By the light from the stars and the half moon in the sky, she saw deer running away from the water, across the dirt road, and up the mountains behind the houses. The roar grew louder, like the train was upon her. Now chipmunks scurried across the road, and the ground beneath her trembled. An earthquake? She looked all around her as panic set in. She wanted to run like the animals, but her feet were like bricks, and so she stood there, waiting.
Then she had this thought: Maybe Artemis was angry that Therese had loaned her gift to Jen.
“Pete?” She shined her light toward the Holts’ driveway, but Pete was no longer in sight. She ran toward the driveway. “Pete?” Nothing.
She ran toward her house, the ground quaking beneath her feet. The dirt road cracked.
"Than!" Therese called. But before she could cry out his name again, a giant wall of cold water washed over her. It entered her mouth before she had gotten air. She lost her footing and dropped the flashlight. Underwater, she couldn’t see. Her body tumbled and turned, and her hair whipped and clung to her face. She frantically tried to gain control by swimming, but she didn’t know which way was up or down. Something like a tree branch scraped against her midriff, cutting the skin. She swam away from the force pulling her, but she couldn’t even tell if she was making progress, and she needed air and couldn’t find it.
Water entered her mouth and her throat burned and scratched, like sandpaper on fire, hard and hot and scraping everything it touched. She writhed in the water, as her father had the night he died.
All of a sudden she saw her parents drowning in front of her: her father turning his head side to side in a wild frenzy and her mother silently yielding to the terrible depths that took her. Therese called to Than in her mind as the darkness overpowered her, and she lost consciousness.