Evan Hunter - The Moment She Was Gone

She shakes her head, turns to look into my face.

“There’s no one,” she says.

She shakes her head again.

“I’m all alone, bro, I’m so terribly all alone,” she says, “I’m so lonely all the time,” and suddenly her eyes well with tears.

“Annie,” I say, “you don’t have to be alone.”

“Don’t let them put me in a strait jacket again.”

“I promise.”

“I’m so afraid they’ll put me in a strait jacket again.”

“No. No, they won’t. I’ll tell them not to. No one will hurt you, Annie, I promise. Let me help you. Please, honey. I want to help you.”

She shakes her head.

“We’re not even twins anymore, Andy. We’re so different now.”

“We’re still twins,” I say.

“I loved being your twin.”

“You still are, honey.”

I hold out my hand to her.

It is trembling, but it is there for her to take.

“There’s too much traffic,” she says.

“I don’t care, Annie.”

“Too much noise,” she says, and shakes her head as if to clear it.

“Give me your hand, Annie. Please, dear sister, take my hand. Please. Take my hand, Annie. Please.”

She opens her eyes wide. She searches my face. Suspicion crosses her eyes, and then fear again, and for just a moment, something resembling hope. She thrusts her hand out suddenly, as if against her will, as if forcing it through an invisible barrier, and I grab it at once, firmly, and pull her off the wall, and into the safety of my arms.

She is trembling with fear. Somewhere on the street below, I hear sirens approaching. She looks up into my face Her eyes are wide and frightened. She begins trembling more violently.

“No, don’t worry,” I say.

Her eyes search my face.

“I’ll be here,” I assure her, and in that fleeting moment before she is again gone to her voices, I see in her eyes the distant glistening hope that one day she will become whole again, one day she will truly recover from that terrible moment — so very long ago — when first she lost herself so completely.

“I promise,” I say.

And she nods, but does not smile, my dear sad sister, and says something I cannot comprehend as I lead her away from the edge of the roof.