three
It takes us all a moment to process what just happened. Then Rachel gasps and Jeremy starts yelling, shouting stuff much worse than what you’ll hear in any Mayhem Cruise song at Dad. I’m too stunned to do anything. I’ve seen Dad act crazy before. Taking Jeremy’s meal at the restaurant and throwing it on the floor was pretty bad. But I’ve never seen him act this crazy.
“Krystie,” says Dad sharply, over Jeremy’s yelling. “Did you bring your phone too?”
I shake my head numbly. “No… It’s on my nightstand at home.”
“I hope you’re telling me the truth.” Dad eyes me in the rearview mirror. I can see why he thinks I wouldn’t be telling the truth—something along the lines of I wouldn’t want my phone thrown out the window too—but he has no need to worry. I didn’t even think to grab my phone when we all were being shuffled to the car.
“Jeremy,” Dad raises his voice so Jeremy will hear him. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new phone as soon as all this is over. Any phone you want. But for now it’s imperative that we don’t have any technology traveling with us.”
“Oh yeah? If that’s the case why don’t you just ditch the car then? We can run from all your gun-wielding maniacs on foot.” Jeremy’s voice is bitter, sarcastic.
Dad’s head jerks around. “Do you see someone with a gun?”
“Yeah, right behind us.”
Dad hits the accelerator so hard it feels like we’re on a ride at an amusement park. He switches into the fast lane and accelerates again. Rachel looks up at me with a worried expression. “We’re going fast.”
“Dad,” I speak up. “You do know Jeremy was being sarcastic about the gun, right?”
Dad glances at Jeremy. “Were you being sarcastic?”
“Of course I was! Dad, there’s no one chasing us. It’s all in your head. You need to see a shrink or something.”
“Jeremy,” Mom turns around. Her face is dead serious, grimmer than I’ve ever seen her. “I know this is weird, I know this is scary, I know you’re mad at Dad. But please, just take it easy for now. It’ll be a couple hours before we get to where we’re going, so like Dad said, this would be a good time to take a little nap.” She glances subtly at Rachel. “Dad and I will explain everything you need to know. Just not right now.” Another glance at Rachel.
I get what she’s saying. We need to wait until Rachel falls asleep.
“Well, you know, it would be easier if I had my phone,” Jeremy grumbles. But he closes his eyes and leans against the window once more.
I do the same, and Rachel leans against me. But before I’ve even had time to get comfortable, Dad snaps, “And for heaven’s sake, get back under that blanket!”
We obey.
It feels like hours before Rachel’s breathing finally slows and she stops wriggling around. Eventually, though, I poke her in the side, which is her most ticklish spot, and she doesn’t react. She’s asleep.
“Dad?” I say quietly, even though it feels weird to be talking from under the blanket. “Mom? Can you guys tell us what’s going on now?”
“Your sister’s asleep?” Dad checks.
“Yeah.”
“All right.”
Before Dad has a chance to say anything more, Jeremy asks, “Can we get out from under this stupid blanket? It’s getting stuffy in here.”
“No,” says Dad immediately. “Too dangerous.”
“A blanket’s not bulletproof, Dad. And it’s pretty obvious we’re back here anyway. A trained hit man could probably aim through the window and hit any one of us in the head whether we’re under the blanket or not.”
All Jeremy’s talk about guns and shooting is starting to scare me a little. I know this is fake; I know we’re not really in any danger. But it’s frightening all the same.
“It’s not so much that,” says Dad. “We’ll get to a point where you won’t have to be under the blanket. For now, I don’t want anyone to be able to see what you kids look like or how many of you there are.”
“Why?” I ask, at the same time Jeremy says, “It’s dark.”
“You can never be too careful,” Dad responds to Jeremy. Maybe to me as well.
“Who are we running away from?” I ask in a quiet voice.
Dad sighs. “It’s complicated. More complicated than you need to know. All you need to know right now is that we’re in danger and that everything--everything--hinges on listening to what Mom and I tell you to do. No arguing, no complaining, just do what we tell you.”
That was the least satisfying answer I’ve ever heard. I open my mouth to ask for more information, but Dad isn’t done yet. “There are people who don’t like me,” he explains. “A lot of people who don’t like me. And they would target all of you as well, to get to me. That’s why we’re all escaping together. And that’s why I had to get rid of your phone, Jeremy. We can’t trust technology. It can be tracked, it can gather information, it can be used against us.”
Dad’s voice is urgent, but rational. He doesn’t sound like he’s in the middle of a paranoid delusion. “Mom?” I ask in a quiet voice. “Is it true?”
It’s maddening not being able to see out from under this blanket. For a moment, I’m not sure Mom even heard me. But then she says, in a voice just as quiet as mine, “Yes. It’s all true.”
“How long has this been going on?” asks Jeremy. His voice still sounds skeptical. “How long have these people not liked you?”
“A very long time,” Dad tells him. “I’ve been vigilant, and I’ve always managed to keep at least one step ahead of them. But the gap’s closing now that—well, now that the situation has gotten more complicated.”
“And what is the situation?” Jeremy pushes. “Why do these people not like you?”
“They have their reasons,” says Dad. “And I have mine. But it’s not safe for you to know too much about any of this. You wanted an explanation; I’ve given you one. The important thing now is that we stay safe and don’t let them catch us.”
Dad is using his this-is-final voice, the voice he uses when Rachel whines about needing to go to bed or when Jeremy begs to go to a high school party or when I try to weasel my way out of completing my math homework. You can’t argue with him when he’s using his this-is-final voice.
So I close my eyes and lean against the window again, this time in hopes of getting some sleep for real. Maybe when I wake up I’ll realize this has all just been one very strange dream.
“Krystie,” says Dad sharply, over Jeremy’s yelling. “Did you bring your phone too?”
I shake my head numbly. “No… It’s on my nightstand at home.”
“I hope you’re telling me the truth.” Dad eyes me in the rearview mirror. I can see why he thinks I wouldn’t be telling the truth—something along the lines of I wouldn’t want my phone thrown out the window too—but he has no need to worry. I didn’t even think to grab my phone when we all were being shuffled to the car.
“Jeremy,” Dad raises his voice so Jeremy will hear him. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new phone as soon as all this is over. Any phone you want. But for now it’s imperative that we don’t have any technology traveling with us.”
“Oh yeah? If that’s the case why don’t you just ditch the car then? We can run from all your gun-wielding maniacs on foot.” Jeremy’s voice is bitter, sarcastic.
Dad’s head jerks around. “Do you see someone with a gun?”
“Yeah, right behind us.”
Dad hits the accelerator so hard it feels like we’re on a ride at an amusement park. He switches into the fast lane and accelerates again. Rachel looks up at me with a worried expression. “We’re going fast.”
“Dad,” I speak up. “You do know Jeremy was being sarcastic about the gun, right?”
Dad glances at Jeremy. “Were you being sarcastic?”
“Of course I was! Dad, there’s no one chasing us. It’s all in your head. You need to see a shrink or something.”
“Jeremy,” Mom turns around. Her face is dead serious, grimmer than I’ve ever seen her. “I know this is weird, I know this is scary, I know you’re mad at Dad. But please, just take it easy for now. It’ll be a couple hours before we get to where we’re going, so like Dad said, this would be a good time to take a little nap.” She glances subtly at Rachel. “Dad and I will explain everything you need to know. Just not right now.” Another glance at Rachel.
I get what she’s saying. We need to wait until Rachel falls asleep.
“Well, you know, it would be easier if I had my phone,” Jeremy grumbles. But he closes his eyes and leans against the window once more.
I do the same, and Rachel leans against me. But before I’ve even had time to get comfortable, Dad snaps, “And for heaven’s sake, get back under that blanket!”
We obey.
It feels like hours before Rachel’s breathing finally slows and she stops wriggling around. Eventually, though, I poke her in the side, which is her most ticklish spot, and she doesn’t react. She’s asleep.
“Dad?” I say quietly, even though it feels weird to be talking from under the blanket. “Mom? Can you guys tell us what’s going on now?”
“Your sister’s asleep?” Dad checks.
“Yeah.”
“All right.”
Before Dad has a chance to say anything more, Jeremy asks, “Can we get out from under this stupid blanket? It’s getting stuffy in here.”
“No,” says Dad immediately. “Too dangerous.”
“A blanket’s not bulletproof, Dad. And it’s pretty obvious we’re back here anyway. A trained hit man could probably aim through the window and hit any one of us in the head whether we’re under the blanket or not.”
All Jeremy’s talk about guns and shooting is starting to scare me a little. I know this is fake; I know we’re not really in any danger. But it’s frightening all the same.
“It’s not so much that,” says Dad. “We’ll get to a point where you won’t have to be under the blanket. For now, I don’t want anyone to be able to see what you kids look like or how many of you there are.”
“Why?” I ask, at the same time Jeremy says, “It’s dark.”
“You can never be too careful,” Dad responds to Jeremy. Maybe to me as well.
“Who are we running away from?” I ask in a quiet voice.
Dad sighs. “It’s complicated. More complicated than you need to know. All you need to know right now is that we’re in danger and that everything--everything--hinges on listening to what Mom and I tell you to do. No arguing, no complaining, just do what we tell you.”
That was the least satisfying answer I’ve ever heard. I open my mouth to ask for more information, but Dad isn’t done yet. “There are people who don’t like me,” he explains. “A lot of people who don’t like me. And they would target all of you as well, to get to me. That’s why we’re all escaping together. And that’s why I had to get rid of your phone, Jeremy. We can’t trust technology. It can be tracked, it can gather information, it can be used against us.”
Dad’s voice is urgent, but rational. He doesn’t sound like he’s in the middle of a paranoid delusion. “Mom?” I ask in a quiet voice. “Is it true?”
It’s maddening not being able to see out from under this blanket. For a moment, I’m not sure Mom even heard me. But then she says, in a voice just as quiet as mine, “Yes. It’s all true.”
“How long has this been going on?” asks Jeremy. His voice still sounds skeptical. “How long have these people not liked you?”
“A very long time,” Dad tells him. “I’ve been vigilant, and I’ve always managed to keep at least one step ahead of them. But the gap’s closing now that—well, now that the situation has gotten more complicated.”
“And what is the situation?” Jeremy pushes. “Why do these people not like you?”
“They have their reasons,” says Dad. “And I have mine. But it’s not safe for you to know too much about any of this. You wanted an explanation; I’ve given you one. The important thing now is that we stay safe and don’t let them catch us.”
Dad is using his this-is-final voice, the voice he uses when Rachel whines about needing to go to bed or when Jeremy begs to go to a high school party or when I try to weasel my way out of completing my math homework. You can’t argue with him when he’s using his this-is-final voice.
So I close my eyes and lean against the window again, this time in hopes of getting some sleep for real. Maybe when I wake up I’ll realize this has all just been one very strange dream.
