He had no idea about Mazzy Brower, or the article, or that I had admitted to making the poster. He only knew that the girl from the summer when he maybe had ruined his entire life had called him out of the blue. I knew it was a surprise to him. It had to be. I had been the one trying to find him, had prepared myself for it, and when I heard his voice, I lost my mind. I hoped he was okay. I hoped he knew I wasn’t trying to hurt him, but how in the world would he know that? Maybe he needed to be very afraid of me.
And there was really only one way to find out. It was still dark outside, but I packed up my stuff and left a note for my mom, saying where I was going and that I would call her in the morning, that I’d bring Junie to see her soon. Then I was in the car, driving, on my way to Zeke, the edge, the edge, the edge, the edge.
Sixteen
I WAS TWO HOURS INTO THE FOUR-AND-A-HALF-HOUR DRIVE when my mom called me. “Frankie!” she said. “Jesus, why didn’t you wait until the morning? I walked into your room, and it was like you’d ascended into heaven. It was very unsettling.”
“I left you a note, Mom,” I said, trying to stay awake, grateful for the distraction, even one this awkward.
“You left the note in your bedroom, sweetie,” she replied. “So I didn’t get the note until after I thought you’d been kidnapped. You leave the note in my bedroom or in the kitchen, okay? Like, in the future, you leave the note somewhere accessible.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said. “I wasn’t in the best frame of mind.”
“So you decided to drive to Memphis in that frame of mind? Sweetie, this feels like that summer all over again. You’re in the car, and you are alone, and . . . just be careful. I wish you’d let me come with you. I kind of thought it might be like a road trip or something for us.”
“I just think I need to do this, so I can move on to whatever is next.”
“Your life? Right? The rest of your life with your husband and your daughter? When you say something, sweetie, like whatever is next, it is not reassuring, okay?”
“Mom! Jesus, of course, I mean the rest of my life. My whole life. Just getting back to Bowling Green and being with Aaron and Junie and writing my books and, I don’t know, being outed as a freak who caused a national panic.”
“Could you, at the very least, text me the address where you’re going? So I can give it to the police if you disappear? So I can drive there? Wait, if I left right now—”
“Mom! It’s okay. I’m okay. I need to do this. I’ll text you that address so you have it.”
“It’s Zeke?” she asked. “You’re sure it’s him?”
“Yes, it’s him. I’m going to go see him. I’ll tell him, let him know that this is happening, and then I’ll go home.”
“Okay,” she said. “If I didn’t stop you back then, I don’t know what I can do about it now. None of us really has the moral high ground, I guess I’m saying. Please, please, please be careful. Do you have pepper spray?”
“No, I don’t. I don’t need pepper spray.”
“I have twenty of them in the kitchen. I wish you would have taken one.”
“I don’t want it. Not to talk to Zeke. I’d better go. I’ve got to get some gas at the next exit.”
“Sweetie?” she said. “Would it even matter to tell him? You haven’t seen him in forever. You don’t know him. Not really. Just tell the reporter that Zeke helped you and then things will happen naturally after that. Maybe it’s better if that lady talks to him. It might be better, honestly.”
“I already called him. He heard my voice. I just need to tell him.”
“I wish you wouldn’t, but okay. I really feel like I should come with you. If you waited at a rest stop, I—”
“I gotta go, Mom,” I said. “I’ll be okay. I’ll text you the address. I’ll text you when I’m done. It’s fine.”
I got out of the car once I pulled into a gas station, and bought some Pop-Tarts and a soda. The station was empty, just the cashier, who was watching TV, and so I walked to the car and got one of the posters, some tape, and I went back into the store and slipped into the women’s bathroom. I taped it to the mirror and stared at it for ten seconds, letting it wash over me. Why did it work every time? Why did I care so much? I didn’t question it. Or I didn’t question it more deeply. I let it do its thing to me, the world disappearing and then wrapping around me. And then I was gone.