He felt the anger coalesce in words that thronged his lips and teeth, so he was surprised to hear a different feeling assert itself out loud. “Mom, what if she doesn’t like me?”
This seemed to recoup for Larissa her equilibrium, because nothing better vanquishes your problems than your kid’s. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “What’s not to like? Now, buckle up, because who knows if your father can actually land this plane.” She laughed and frowned and laughed again.
ETA: now. The landing gear engaged. And down they went.
California was rilled with faults and counterpoised tectonic fronts likely to rip the state from the mainland. Where Tracy lived was notorious for fire and debris flows, and in that order. It had been the rainiest winter in 115 years. Nine inches in the last week. Almost nine feet at Opids Camp, up in the mountains, where Ned had always begged his parents to send him, which they never did. Probably because they knew his twin lived just a few miles away. They claimed not to know, but who was believing them now? It had rained more at Opids this year than in Bangkok. It was about to rain again; the clouds gathered in a scrum overhead.
They taxied to a hangar that was five sheets of aluminum and loud as bombs when the rain came. There was no one there, as though what few people who attended the strip had run home to open their doors and let the mud pass through. A nice idea. At the foot of the mountains, for fifty miles, were debris basins meant to catch whatever came down, but these overflowed, so that it was possible, at any moment, to drown in a gruel of mud twelve feet high, come slopping through your room.
“Well, this takes it,” Max said. The rain was coming off the roof in a wall and pooling by the hangar door. His shoes were wet through — suede loafers — not to mention his socks. He sat on a bench and struggled to meet his feet halfway.
“Let me help,” Larissa said, and before he could protest, she’d crammed her fingers down his heels like a shoehorn.
Ned made for the door and looked out. A road meandered from the hangar; there was a single car parked outside. “How are we going to get out of here?” he said. Because he had not exactly thought ahead. Well, no, he had thought ahead — that they’d land in Tracy’s yard and she’d come running to him with apple pie and lollipops.
“I rented a car,” Max said. “It’s the ugly one outside.”
“And go where?” Larissa said. “Because one place I’m not going is that woman’s. Not that anyone asked, but I am not going.”
“That’s the spirit,” Ned said. “I’m glad you’re open to this.”
“Your father and I talked about it. We’re at a point in our lives where we just want some peace and quiet. We’ve earned it. So, while we’re happy to get you to her, we’re not going.”
Ned looked at his father to see whether there was actual agreement there or whether she’d just bullied him down. But no, there was no bullying. If Tracy’s life was garbage, they simply did not want the guilt of knowing they could have done better for her.
“But she’s my sister,” he said, though it sounded pathetic even to him. He tried again. “If you’re interested in me, you’re supposed to be interested in her.”
“Let’s just get to the car,” Max said.
They drove around Sunland. A main drag with all the amenities, and to the north, the mountains, scalloped into the afternoon sky, which was a baby’s face swelled with the tantrum gathering force in her lungs.
“We need a map,” Ned said. “I just have the address.”
“We’re not going,” Larissa said. “I understand no one in this family listens to me, but all the same, we’re not going.”
“Fine, whatever, you can just wait in the car.”
“Oh, that’ll go over well.”
“We can drop you off,” Max said. “We’ll make sure she’s home and then come back for you later.”
Ned pummeled his knee with his fist. “You’re making this ridiculous,” he said. “It’s not like dropping me off for kindergarten. Why do you have to make this ridiculous? This means something to me.”
They pulled into a gas station. Larissa fussed with her purse, looking for her wallet. Ned shoved her a five. “A local map, okay?”
She turned around. He was lying down in the backseat. “Neddy, I’ve been thinking. Maybe you should call first? Because what if she really isn’t home? Or what if she doesn’t believe you? What if she doesn’t know she was adopted, either? Have you thought about any of that?”
He was blinking slowly, because on the lee side of his eyelids was the way this afternoon was supposed to go, and it gave him courage to check in with the footage every three seconds.
“I don’t think there’s another family in the universe that wouldn’t tell their adopted child she’s adopted,” he said. “Just FYI.”
“But is this really the best way?” Max said. “I’m not saying don’t find your sister, but what is the hurry? A little planning, a little foresight — these could save you some trouble down the road.”
He was getting a headache. “Just get the map,” he said. “Please.”
It was almost five. It was getting dark.
“It’s a ways up the canyon,” Larissa said when she got back into the car. “The man inside showed me.”
“Good, that settles it,” Max said. “We’ll do this tomorrow. If we hustle, we can still get to the lodge for a steak dinner. I’ve got friends that way.”
Ned reached for the map. “What do you mean? It’s just up the road!”
Larissa sneezed. “Your father will catch pneumonia out in this weather. You already saw his shoes.”
“Then I’ll walk,” he said, and he made to get out of the car, unsure whether he was bluffing or not.
“Neddy,” she said. “You haven’t lived out here for a while. Things are different. This area’s not safe.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Tell him,” Larissa said, looking at Max.
“Your mother’s right. There’s methamphetamine labs all over the place. Have you noticed how half the people running around have no teeth?” He put the car in gear.
“It’s true,” Larissa said. “Even the man behind the counter was missing a front tooth.”
“And that means he’s a meth head?” Ned said. “I need something from the store”—and he ran out. He needed air. Space. These people were unbearable, and thank God he was not biologically mandated to turn into them when he reached that age when you stop resisting your worst self. Course, it was possible his biological parents had been unbearable, too, but there was no point going down that road.
A bell rang as he walked into the convenience store. He kept his eyes on the floor and matted his hair against his forehead. The guy behind the desk was not a guy but a kid, and he was missing teeth because he was ten.
“Need something?” the kid said.
“Just looking.”
“Lemme get my dad for you.”
“No, no, I’m just leaving.”
But it was too late; the kid was hollering for his dad, who came lumbering in from a back room. “Didn’t I say not to bother me?” But then, seeing a customer, he said, “Well, well! Out in this weather? Brave man. What can I do you for?”
But Ned was backing out of the store, mumbling thanks and trying not to hear the radio, which was live from a Cincinnati hospital treating some of the people from around the Helix House. The place had gone up in flames, but the fallout was minor. Smoke inhalation. First-degree burns.
The guy whistled. “Sorriest thing I ever heard. You been following this mess? House blows up and all four of those hostages are gone. Even the Grand Poobah. Something’s not right.”
Ned looked up for the first time. “All four of them gone?”
“Maybe taken to a new place. What do I know. Radio’s telling me nothing.”