Chapter Four: The Vanishing

      Natalie entered her house and went up into her room. Even though the rest of the house was pretty much style-deprived, she’d done a sweet number on her own digs. The walls were dusty rose and she’d sponged her ceiling to look like clouds. A prodigious reader, she had scads of books and had them lined up in alphabetical order on a couple of wooden bookshelves she’d rescued from the alley, sanded down, and painted teal blue. She worked at her desk doing homework for twenty minutes but her brain was elsewhere. She got up and stretched, then fell onto her bed and thought of Will.

      When she’d seen him at the bus stop that morning, she couldn’t believe how hot he was. She’d spent most of the wait for the bus stealing glances at him, noticing how trim and muscular he was, how well his jeans fit, how his blue eyes caught the light. She hadn’t been sure then if she’d seen right or had hallucinated but it seemed as though one of Will’s eyes was lighter, almost crystal blue, while the other was a deep, piercing sapphire. But she’d confirmed it in his basement, staring right into them as he fixed up her arm.

      She looked at the bandage on her arm and even though Will had instructed her to keep it on for—what did he say, three days?—she was curious because she felt no more pain and peeled the bandage back. She felt like a caterpillar crawled up her spine when she saw that where the wound had been, her skin was smooth as silk. Not a trace of the injury remained. She shuddered and whatever yearning she felt for Will increased exponentially.

      She didn’t like being so attracted to some new neighbor whom she hardly knew; it made her feel weak and vulnerable and the last thing she needed now was to feel more out of control than she already did. She tried not to think of him but she couldn’t because the thought of him was like something clinging to her skin. She decided to take a shower. One of the old movies her grandmother used to love to watch had a scene where some women sang, “I’m gonna wash that man right out of my hair,” and Natalie thought it was worth a try. She stayed in the shower a long time, washing and rinsing her long hair, and then turned off the water and toweled off. She got out and put on her pajama bottoms and a camisole and again fell onto her bed.

      She closed her eyes and felt the stinging of tears, tears that came upon her suddenly. Why was this happening? She went to her night stand and picked up a picture of what looked like her with shorter hair. But it wasn’t her; it was her twin sister Emily. Same nose, same chin, same cheeks, same blonde hair only shorter, same sparkling eyes. Natalie held the framed photograph up to a mirror and positioned it next to her face. So alike they could hardly tell us apart, she thought. But we were different enough, and we knew it. Natalie watched as another tear emerged from her eye, not her tear but her sister’s; no one but a twin could ever understand. Why are you crying? she asked the photograph. What have they done to you? Where have they taken you? Please tell me, Em, please?

      Natalie shut her eyes again, opening all her intuition, all her channels, making herself ready for a sign, a message, any kind of communication from Emily. She received them frequently. But there was nothing tonight. By her bedside sat a scrapbook. If she’d opened it like she had a thousand times before she would have seen the newspaper clippings about how Emily drowned while swimming in Green River, how even though her body had never been found, the police concluded that there was no foul play. Because of the drugs. Emily wasn’t a heavy user, she only experimented. She was just a chipper. Natalie had warned her dozens of times that nothing good could come from using drugs, but Emily always laughed in that little bird-like way of hers and blew her twin sister off. Natalie knew now, too late, that she should have been more proactive, she should have demanded Em stop using, even turning her in if she had to.

      She remembered the night it happened like it was five minutes ago. They went on a double date with Jim Sparrow and Hal Stellini in Jim’s dad’s Range Rover. The guys and Em fired up joints and passed them around but Natalie refrained. She never saw the point of becoming impaired. She enjoyed her life au naturale, organic, without the use of chemical additives or addictives for that matter. She was already flying high. The music was fantastic, the warm night air like a blanket around them.

      They drove with the windows down and then pulled in and parked by Old Mill Restaurant next to the river. The moon bathed the riverbank in a silver band of silk and they cranked up the stereo and danced. Natalie felt free as a nightbird. She loved watching her sister, who always danced like there was no tomorrow. Emily danced so hard and so fast that she was soon soaked in sweat and she kissed Jim and he whispered something into her ear. Shrieking, Emily ran into a thicket of trees, peeling off her clothes, and Jim followed. Natalie was blushing and feeling awkward because she knew Hal would be entreating her to do the same and there was just no way that was going to happen, even though Hal was cute and played guitar like Ben Harper. They just danced, and when the music slowed, they slowed down with it. Hal tried to kiss her but she didn’t feel that way about him. She felt bad because he was such a nice guy and she hated to hurt people’s feelings. So she let him kiss her on the cheek and he seemed for the moment satisfied.

      When the sudden cloud cover blacked out the opal moon they hardly noticed. When the rain began to fall it was so warm that they laughed but when the trees shook and the river began to rise, Natalie became worried. She heard her sister shriek and her heart started hammering in her chest.

      “Emily? Em?”

      She ran into the thicket where Emily had disappeared. In her peripheral vision she saw the earth moving. Not the whole landscape, just patches of the damp, leaf-strewn earth—shapes, ugly, awful shapes that rose up too swift for the eye to see and then disappeared down again. Then in the distance through foliage she saw sets of eyes in the river, each with one green glowing eye and one yellow. The eyes blinked as the creatures in the river moved rapidly about, then disappeared. Natalie thought that surely she was hallucinating. Maybe she’d inhaled