Never Knowing

answer.

“Movies … I like lots of different ones. They have to be fast-paced — I get bored easily.”

“Me too.” He was quiet for a few seconds, then said, “Enjoy the rest of your day, Sara. We’ll talk more soon.”

I phoned Billy immediately, but he wasn’t able to call back for ten minutes, which I spent pacing. He told me John was somewhere around Mackenzie now, which is northeast of Prince George. The area is all provincial parks and mountain ranges, so he’d disappeared again, but Billy said I handled the call perfectly and it seemed like John was really connecting with me. He didn’t give me a hard time about opening the package either, just said he understood John had put me on the spot and that they’d be over soon to pick it up. They think he probably shipped it from Prince George. Makes sense, it’s the largest city in the North, so there are more depots and less chance of him standing out. Then Billy reminded me to call them right away if John sent another one. Later Billy e-mailed me a cool quote: Know the enemy,Know yourself,And victoryIs never in doubt,Not in a hundred battles.

He must’ve been sitting right at his computer, because when I e-mailed him back, asking what the heck it meant, he responded in seconds. Means you did a great job today, kid. Now go to bed!

I laughed and sent him a quick You too! then turned off my computer. As I was heading to bed, the landline rang again. I thought it was Evan calling to say good night, but it was John.

“Hi, John. Everything okay?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice again before I shut down for the night.”

I cringed. But I said, “That’s nice.”

“I really enjoyed our talk today.”

“Me too. I liked it when you told me about your family.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well…” I hadn’t expected him to ask for details. “Other kids in school, my friends growing up, they all knew where they came from. But my past was just a black hole. It made me feel cut off from regular people, like I was different or weird. I guess finally hearing some stories made me feel normal.” “It’s nice getting to know you.” He paused for a moment, then said, “When I was having my dinner, I thought about what you told me earlier.”

“Which part’s that?”

“About losing your temper … I get angry too.”

Here we go. “What kinds of things make you angry?”

“It’s hard to explain. You might not understand.”

“I’d like to try. I want to get to know you better too.” I meant it. Not just because he might reveal something that would help the cops catch him, I also wanted to know just how much we had in common.

He didn’t say anything right away, so I continued.

“The other day when you called, you sounded like you were in pain?”

“I’m okay. Did I tell you we had a ranch when I was kid?”

Frustrated that he’d changed the subject on me again, I took a breath and said, “No, but that must’ve been a great way to grow up. How much land did you have?” I said, hoping he’d mention where he was from.

“We had about ten acres at the base of a mountain.” His voice sounded excited. “Neighbors would bring sick animals to my mom all the time. She only used natural medicines, comfrey for coughs, things like that. She’d keep chicks and kittens in her shirt to keep them warm and she could almost bring them back from the dead.” He gave a happy laugh. “We had a lot of farm dogs when I was growing up, they were always having puppies. The smallest one, Angel, was mine. She was part husky and part wolf — I hand-reared her with a bottle. She went everywhere with me.…” His voice turned flat. “But she ran away. My mother said it was in her nature. I tried to find her but never could.” “I’m … I’m sorry.”

“I’m glad I found you, Sara. Good night.”

I stayed awake for hours.

I hoped I’d feel better after talking to you. But I’m beginning to think nothing is going to do that. I’m also beginning to think they’re never going to catch John. The second call came from north of Mackenzie, near Chetwynd, which is in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. They thought they had something when a local rancher reported a truck on the side of the road, but it turned out to be just a couple of hunters. I marked a map with all the spots John had called from, each one taking him farther away from me physically but deeper into my mind, skewing my perceptions, like someone was turning me sideways and making everything look different, feel different.

I’m sure it makes sense to you that I’d be off-kilter, all things considered, but it feels deeper than that. More of a core upheaval. Like those volcanoes that have been brewing for years, then one day they just explode. I’m not saying I’m going to explode, although it’s possible, just that it feels like something big has burst inside. Maybe because for so many years I’ve used the fact that I had real parents out there somewhere in the world as a way of comforting myself over anything I didn’t like about my family.

It’s like thinking you were handed the wrong life and you just had to get to the right one and everything would be okay, then finding out that there isn’t a right one. Or the right one was actually the wrong one after all, or — never mind, you know what I mean. But then I think about my temper, my urges to lash out with tongue or fist, I think about Ally’s tantrums, the line we both cross sometimes when we lose control, and I wonder if we do belong in that other life, with that other family.

When I first told you I found my mother, I said it was like standing on cracking ice. This is like falling straight through into the freezing water. You struggle back to the surface, your lungs burning, everything focused on that patch of light above you. And you finally make it there, but the hole’s frozen over.

SESSION TEN

I’ve never been so scared in my life. I still can’t believe I actually thought I was in the driver’s seat with John. I’m such an idiot. You warned me about getting overconfident. Did I really think just because he asked me about my tools and my work, because he told me about his dog, that I had any control over him? He has all the power, and do you know why he has the power? Because I’m terrified of him and he knows it.

The day after our last session another box was delivered. I knew I should wait until Sandy and Billy opened it, but I wanted to know if he’d sent me another tool, wondering for a moment why it mattered, then brushing off the thought. This box was smaller and lighter than the one the jack plane had arrived in. I gave it a little shake but didn’t hear anything. After I found some gloves, I carefully sliced open the package and lifted out a smaller box from inside. What if it was another victim’s jewelry? I debated for half a second about calling Billy, then lifted the lid off the box.

A small rustic metal doll, maybe four inches tall and a couple of inches wide at the shoulders, lay nestled in cotton batting. The body seemed to be made from some sort of dark, heavy metal, like iron or steel. Its arms and legs were thick and straight down like a toy soldier’s. The feet and hands were just round metal balls. It was wearing a little denim skirt and a yellow T-shirt. The clothes were delicate, the stitching intricate. The head of the doll was also a round ball of metal. But it had no face. No mouth or eyes.

Long straight brown hair, parted in the middle, was attached to the top of the head. Faint traces of glue were visible through the strands, but you had to look closely. Why had John sent this? I looked back in the main box to see if he’d included a note, but it was empty. I looked back at the doll again. Marveled at the clothes, the hair.

The hair.

I put the doll back in the box and called Billy. He and Sandy were at my house twenty minutes later — I was waiting in the driveway, pacing back and forth with Moose in my arms, when Billy stepped out of the driver’s side of the SUV.

“It’s in the kitchen,” I said.

“You okay?”