Todd Strasser - Blood on my hands

“A minute and twelve seconds,” Dakota announced. Meanwhile, in the lounge beside her, Katherine had her phone pressed to her ear.

And Zelda was still beneath the surface.

“A minute and twenty seconds,” Dakota said.

Ten seconds later, she said, “Thirty.”

“Hold on,” Katherine said to whomever she was speaking to. She leaned forward curiously on her lounge to look down at Zelda.

“A minute forty,” Dakota announced.

Several seconds later, Zelda splashed to the surface.

“A minute and forty-seven seconds,” Dakota said.

Zelda grinned triumphantly.

“That’s amazing,” I said.

“My dad and I have contests all the time,” Zelda said breathlessly, her wet hair plastered to her head. “I always beat him, too.”

“I’ll call you back,” Katherine said into her phone, and snapped it shut.

“What’s the longest you’ve stayed under?”

“A little over two minutes,” Zelda answered.

Katherine pointed at her phone. “Know who that was? Mia. She wanted to know what we were doing.”

“What did you tell her?” Dakota asked.

Katherine smiled and flipped open the phone. “I think I’m going to invite her over.”

Sunday 8:32 P.M.

IN THE EMS building the seconds are ticking past. Get out of here! I tell myself, then go through the door and dash away into the dark. As I head into the woods beyond the parking lot, my first thought is to run as far and as fast as I can, but maybe that’s a mistake. Maybe I should crouch down behind a tree and wait and watch.

There’s just enough moonlight for me to make out the two police cruisers that roll quietly into the parking lot with their lights off. A police officer from each unit gets out, and they silently gesture to each other in the dark. One goes around behind the building, as if to catch anyone who may try to escape out the back. The other tiptoes quietly toward the front door. In the dark I can tell that each is carrying things in his hands, but I can’t tell what. Flashlights?

Guns?

The thought sends a shiver through me. How can it be that the police believe I’m so dangerous that they need to have their weapons out? It seems unreal. I’m just a teenager… and a girl, for God’s sake. But they think I’m a killer. And if I’ve killed once, there’s nothing to stop me from killing again, right?

One of the police officers is at the door now. His flashlight goes on and he looks through the window as he reaches for the doorknob. The door doesn’t open. I must have locked it accidentally when I ran out. He goes back to the cruiser, opens the trunk, and returns with a crowbar.

But before he gets back to the door, the whole scene is suddenly illuminated by headlights. It’s another car. The officer with the crowbar shields his eyes from the glare as the car stops and someone jumps out. I can’t tell for certain, but I think it’s a woman.

“You are interfering with an ongoing police investigation!” the officer announces loudly. “Get out of here! Now!”

The woman hesitates and takes a step back toward her car, but now another car pulls in. The officer with the crowbar curses as a person gets out of the second car and raises something to his face. A flash goes off.

The police officer repeats what he told the woman. “You’re interfering with a police investigation!” By now I’ve realized what’s happening. I’m not the only person who’s been listening to a police scanner. News reporters have them, too.

As if the officer with the crowbar has just realized the same thing, he turns back to the building and begins prying open the door before more unwanted visitors arrive. The photographer quickly moves in, snapping flash after flash.

For a moment I can’t help feeling amazed that they’re doing all this on my account. Then I remember that it’s not about me; it’s about Katherine. The door pops open and the officer enters. The lights go on, and from my spot in the woods, I can see the dark silhouette of the officer cautiously moving around inside as if he’s looking for me.

He disappears from view, then returns a little bit later. Even from a distance I can tell by his movements that he’s more relaxed now, as if he knows that the place is empty. The other officer joins him. One of them picks up something brown, and when they shine a flashlight into it, I realize it’s the paper bag with my hair. Next one of them holds up something darker. I have a feeling they’re my bloodstained jeans. Now both officers leave the EMS building. While one puts the bag and the jeans into his cruiser, the other sweeps his flashlight across the woods. Now the first one joins him. Together they swing their flashlights around, illuminating tree trunks and brush.

They separate and move toward the trees, flashlights bright.

And one of them is coming straight toward me.

Katherine told Zelda to stay in the pool while the rest of us went into the kitchen. The plan called for Dakota to stay near the window. When Dakota tugged on her right earlobe, Zelda was to float facedown in the pool as if she’d drowned.

We were eating chips and fruit when Mia arrived, breathless and obviously thrilled to be invited. She looked around Zelda’s kitchen with wide eyes and I realized that, like me, she was here for the first time. “Where’s Zelda?”

“Oh, still out in the pool, I guess,” Katherine replied nonchalantly, and gestured toward the door. “Go out and say hi.”

As Mia crossed the kitchen, Dakota, standing by the window, tugged her earlobe. I felt my heart start to thud. I really didn’t want to be part of something so cruel. I wanted to tell Mia that she should stop, that it was a trick. But I didn’t. We watched her go out to the pool. All we could see was her back. Halfway there she stopped. Her shoulders rose and tightened. She rushed forward and stopped at the edge. Her hands rose to shoulder height, her fingers spread. I couldn’t see her face, but I imagined her yelling. Her head swiveled as she looked back toward the kitchen, clearly gripped with panic, her eyes wide, her mouth agape.

Standing at the kitchen counter, Katherine was smiling, her eyes shining with delight.

Meanwhile, Mia twisted back and forth between the pool and the kitchen as if she couldn’t decide what to do. Her body movements and the expression on her face were frantic.

“Pretend nothing’s wrong,” Katherine hissed, and looked down at a magazine on the kitchen counter. Across the kitchen Dakota turned away from the window.

Mia burst through the kitchen door and cried, “Something’s wrong! I think maybe Zelda’s drowned! Call 911!”

Katherine calmly lifted her face from the magazine and scowled. “What makes you think that?”

“She’s floating facedown in the pool!” Mia cried. “Call 911. Oh my God, we have to do something!”

“It’s a trick,” I said, no longer able to restrain myself. I pointed at the pool, where Zelda raised her head as if to see what was happening. Mia’s mouth fell open.

Katherine shot me an icy look. Then, with a grin, she turned to Mia and laughed. “Fooled you!”

Mia’s red face at first reflected her confusion, and then, blinking hard, she forced a smile onto her lips. “A joke? It was a joke?”

She managed one frail laugh… then disintegrated into tears and ran out of the kitchen.

There was silence. Once again Katherine’s expression turned cold as she glared at me. “You ruined it.”

Sunday 8:46 P.M.

AS THE POLICE officer with the flashlight approaches the woods, the beam burns circles in my eyes. The tree I’m crouched behind isn’t big enough to hide me. I have to make a decision: run or hide? Running means making noise and being easy to spot. Hiding means I’m a sitting duck if he finds me. Now I curse myself for not running sooner. Why did I stay and watch?