Memories of a Mad Man

“We received a call from your father last night saying that your mother had disappeared sometime the day before. Is this true?” We’re getting right into the thick of it then, I guess.

“Yes, I called my dad two nights ago to tell him that she was gone, and I haven’t seen or heard from her since.” I try to be as thorough and cooperative as possible. There is no reason to drag this out any more than it needs to be. Chief Brown flips through his little notebook and then looks back up at me.

“And he said that she had raided the house before she left. Was there anything specific that she had taken, to note?”

I can’t help but shrug. “She took some of the crystal ware from the cabinet, a slightly pricey vase, some gold candlesticks from the TV stand, and a few knick knacks that I can’t imagine will get her a lot of money.”

“I see. Anything else you can remember?”

“Well, she had a party the night before she disappeared. I don’t know if that’s worth noting.”

“Every little thing helps, Eleanora.” Malborne smiles at me gently and I nod my head. I know the procedure of these kinds of things, I’d gotten quite used to the questioning.

“Do you have a recent picture of your mother?” Brown asks curiously and I briefly think about it before shaking my head.

“The last photo I have of her is from before Matthew left. And she was still just barely hiding her addictions.” I think about it for a minute. “Don’t you guys have her most recent photo, from when you arrested her a few months ago?”

Malbourne laughs a little and shakes his head.

“We have her mugshot, but it isn’t very flattering. We could run it though.”

“I mean, it’s the most recent picture of her, the one that will most accurately describe what she looks like now.” I ponder it and then shrug. “Do you still want a picture?”

“Can we have one of them?” I nod my head. If they want one then there’s no reason to refuse.

“Give me a minute, I’ll go get it.” I stand from the loveseat and make my way back up to my room. I crouch in front of the closet I never relocked after my breakdown the other night.

Pulling out my broken keep’s sake box, putting my camera aside for a minute, I sort through the photos in the box. I find a photo of my brother and mother standing on his campus as we dropped him off for school. I can’t help but reminisce. We were still a somewhat normal family back then, or close enough to one on the surface. All it took was one small catalyst for all of that to slip away.

My mother was no longer trying to hide her problems with drugs. My father was becoming more and more distant. My brother stopped coming home during breaks from school. My world had crumbled without a warning.

I put the picture aside and start cleaning up the rest of them when I catch a glimpse of a dark picture. It’s blurry, and I can’t remember taking it. Though the photos in the box are all ones that I’ve taken and had printed at the shop in town.

I see a dark silhouette, my mother's skinny frame backdropped against the night sky, a cigarette in her hand.

From how her skin still seems to lack the sagging qualities it has now, the physical aging as a side effect of her addictions, I know that this picture is a couple of years old now. But it was definitely taken after Matthew left.

I consider taking this one down with the other for the officers, but I decide against it. The photo is too dark and grainy for it to be really useful for their purpose. After making that decision, I make quick work of putting everything back in the box, and then I put it back into the closet. I pick up the photo of my mother and Matthew before I make my way back down to the living room.

“Sorry I took so long,” I hold the photo out to the officers. Malborne takes it from my hand and studies it a little bit before tucking it into his own notebook. “That’s the best I can do, though she doesn’t really look like that anymore.”

“Everything helps, this will too. Thank you.”

“Have you tried calling her phone?” Brown asks me once I take a seat again and I shake my head.

“Her phone is still in her room, though I’m pretty sure she broke it a few months back and hasn’t bothered to get it fixed.”

“Alright, and is there anywhere that you’d expect her to go?” I can’t help but laugh a little at his question.

“My best guess? She’s looking for her next fix. Of course, I don’t know where or how she’d go looking for it. And I doubt she’ll come back before she does find it.”

He just nods his head. I know that this is just normal procedure, but it’s a little funny that the questions never change, and neither do the answers that I can give.

“Was she at home when you left for school the day she disappeared?”

“I’m not sure. The house was still in one piece when I left so I would assume so. But I didn’t see her after I shut down her party the night before.”

“Alright, I think that’s all we need right now. We might come back if we need something else. Don’t hesitate to call if you can think of anything else.” They both stand up and start sliding on their coats. I also stand and follow them to the door.

“We’ll let your father know that we’ve spoken to you. And we’ll let you both know if there is any development.”

I nod my head, but I know that they are probably just going to write this incident off, as they have before. My mother has done this before, and she has always made her way home after a while. A week was the longest that she’d been missing before. But my father still always files a missing persons report every time she does disappear. Almost like it’s the final way he can show that he once did love his wife, if he doesn’t still harbour some sort of feelings for what she once was.

I watch the officers leave and walk down the path to our laneway. I watch them until they open their car doors and then I step back and close the door. After locking it I notice that it’s already after midnight and I groan. I still need to shower and finish my homework for tomorrow.

Well, tonight was just another great night.

I’m exhausted again the next day. Makeup can’t even begin to hide the bags under my eyes that are starting to build up, and I trudge around like I’m about ready to keel over at any minute. I had to drink two energy drinks this morning before school just to get through the start of the lab in biology without falling asleep on William.

I’m lucky that nobody tries too hard to talk to me today. Even Rowan, who seems to be a little keen on making nice with me, leaves me well enough alone after taking one look at my face.

The gossip is barely hidden under my peers’ breaths as they mutter to each other about me. About why I might look like this. About the official news that my mother is currently missing. About the speculation, not far from what is most probably the truth, of what she might be doing while she is out somewhere else.

My days go like this for many weeks before something new catches the attention of the masses. Finally, finally, they start to leave me alone again after almost a month and a half. Not that my mother has returned yet.

This is by far the longest amount of time she’s been missing.

Snow has already blanketed the ground, and people are beginning to talk about their winter break plans.

One Friday afternoon, I’m sitting with the Meier triplets in one of the library seminar rooms, finishing off our Socratic circle prep and getting our documentary scripts finalised.

“You know, we really should just meet at our house this Sunday,” Rowan says, her eyes seem to be trying to plead with me.

I want to disagree, but I know that it’ll be easier to do most of the rest of our filming somewhere that we can regulate. I’m just glad that most of our ‘interviews’ have been finished and just need to be edited. Maybe I can make sure we only need to do it for a day or two. Avoid being at their house for too long.

“Alright, fine. We’ll finish filming at your guys’ house this Sunday.” I sigh out, slightly more exasperated then I had intended it to be.

“Yay!” I stare at her a little funny. I don’t understand why she’s so excited to invite me over.

“Just tell me your address and what time you want me there and I’ll be there.”

“Well, it's fifteen-hundred Bakerite Drive.”

My eyes go wide when I hear the address. I should have figured that these rich kids would be living in the outskirts of town where all the rich people have their mansions. There are several of them along Bakerite Drive, it’s a surprise that they can all coexist together with how large the houses and yards are.

I can almost guarantee that I’ll need to take a cab there. None of the public transit goes anywhere near Bakerite Drive, and I would never try to do the two hours walk from my place to theirs in the three feet of snow that we have right now.

“Alright, and the time?”

“What time do you think?” She looks between her two brothers, both of whom just shrug at her instead of being helpful.

“After noon.” Xander grumbles and I smirk a little. He probably wants to sleep late, which is fair.

“Okay, after-noon it is. I’ll come after lunch, then we can just get right into it.”

“Alright. Have we finished the planning then?” Rowan glances at the sheets scattered between us.

“I think so?” I pick one up and glance at some of our plans.

We have a good majority of our documentary planned. We decided to go with a gag idea and talk about the different vehicles in the parking lot of the school. We even had a few people we had done ‘interviews’ with for the topic. Of course, the triplets were the ones who found the interviewees. I don’t know nor speak to enough people regularly to be able to ask them to help us out with this.

It would also probably be a little weird for me to go asking perfect strangers if they wanted to talk about their rich people's cars.

Luckily, we had already filmed the vehicles and done most of the interviews due to the outgoing nature of both Caleb and Rowan. So it was just putting it together and then filling in the gaps and doing some voice-over work.

“Then is there anything left to do for our Socratic circle that’s due Wednesday?” I ask and the three shake their heads.

“Nope, I think we’re all set on that front.” I nod my head at Rowan's response then look at the time on my smartphone.

“I guess that’s it then?”

“Want to go to the diner for dinner? It’s almost seven and none of us have eaten yet.” Caleb invites me and I debate it for a few moments.

“Oh, common Elle, you still don’t have this whole ‘let us not hang out with them because judgment’ notion, do you?” Rowan frowns at me, seeming to be a little mad.

I’ve had this conversation with her more than once. I’ve also told her that I prefer the quiet solitude, but she doesn’t seem willing to accept my flimsy excuses. It’s been an ongoing thing between the two of us for almost a month now.

“I’m not so much worried about me than I am you.” I frown as well. “You aren’t as new as you were a few weeks ago, I don’t think that’s going to be your shield anymore sooner than you think.”

“And I care because?” And I just sigh at her question.

“Fine, let's go get dinner.”

She cheers and starts to stuff all the scattered sheets into the folder we have for our documentary planning. Once she’s picked everything up in her whirlwind of excitement, she shoves the folder into her bag and then bounces to a standing position.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go” She grabs Xander’s arm and drags him up too. And without letting go of him she drags him out of the study room.

Caleb and I just look at each other for a few moments before gathering our own stuff and following behind the two of them.

“Are we walking?” I ask, thinking about the two-block distance from the library to the diner.

“Probably not, our driver usually waits outside the library for us.”

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. I have a vague concept that rich kids and families have valets and drivers, but most of the kids at our school either live on the campus itself and thus don’t need their vehicles, or they drive themselves to school in their luxury cars. Most likely to just show off to their friends.

But the Meier children seemed to be different, and maybe that was because they weren’t originally from here. It might be different from where they come from and the fact that the Meier and the Bentley families both come from incredibly old money and are now joined through marriage as well adds to this thought. I can’t be sure if that is actually it or if there is something else. Maybe their parents insisted, but I'm too reluctant to ask them. It seems more like a rich elite person thing and I don’t want to get into it. So, I keep my thoughts about their money and luxuries just to myself as we exit the library door.

And Caleb is right. There is an older gentleman who is starting to gray around his ears waiting for us with the door open. I can see Rowan's legs through the door, and I frown, looking at the car again from the outside before following Caleb in. Then I understand. Though the car doesn’t look very large from the outside, there is a screen separating the front two seats and the back, which has been altered. There is a continuous almost bench-like seat that wraps from the back, around the driver’s side of the car, and ends against the next wall, making a three-sided rectangle.

There are seat belts in several places around the car and so I pull the one next to me over my chest and buckle myself in. Even though I know that the drive will be short, I shouldn’t make their poor driver get a ticket because of my mistake if we were to be pulled over for any reason.

Of course, I failed to take into account that these were the Meier kids and there wasn’t a police officer who would pull them over if they wanted to keep their job, unless there was something life-threatening.

A couple minutes later the driver, who I learned was named Zachery, was pulling into the driveway of the diner we were going to eat at. The only other diner or dive type eatery in town is across town from Barney’s. Where Barney’s is closer to the Academy, the library that is directly across town and by the public schools is where this diner, Kenny’s, is located. It is a perfect place for the kids from the public schools to go after school for both studying and snacking. They also have student discounts on their shakes, floats, and breakfasts.

I smile, the last time I was here was years ago with my parents and my brother. It wasn’t fun to come to places like this alone, so for the past few years I hadn’t come. I barely eat out as it is since it’s just cheaper and more convenient if I just make myself large amounts of food and have leftovers.

The three climb out as soon as Zachery opens the door for them, and I follow suit though it feels weird to me to have someone opening and closing car doors for me. Zachery follows us into the diner, but he sits at a small table by the entrance, and the four of us head to a booth in the back. I look back at him and see that he doesn’t seem perturbed at all by this, and I wonder how used to eating alone the drivers are. It must be a sad and lonely job.

I’m happy to see that none of the staff seems to be in the hate on Eleanora club, or at least none of the ones that I can see. Most of them are older young adults and not the students. The diner itself is quite busy, but there are still a few empty tables here and there. I look down at my phone and notice that the dinner rush is probably coming to an end.

“Don’t worry, dinner is on us,” Caleb tells me, probably misunderstanding my glances at my phone and around the diner.

“Uh, you don’t have to. I have money.”

“No, no, this is on us, as thanks for coming over on Sunday.” Rowan cuts in and I just sigh and shrug. From the few weeks that I have spent with the triplets, I’ve come to see just how stubborn they are and how it’s better to pick your battles. Fighting with them over something trivial like them paying for my food isn’t worth my energy. Besides, they probably have more expendable pocket money than my father gets on one of his paycheques.

“Fine, I’ll let you guys buy the food then.” I pick up the menu we had gotten a minute earlier and look at their options. I decide on a classic burger and Caesar salad combo and a coke. Easy and simple.

Once we all order I just sit there a little awkwardly and listen to the three of them talk. As much as they try to include me in their conversations I always get lost in some term or topic that they are talking about. The three of them can finish each other's sentences and I’m just the fourth wheel hanging around. At least they’ve been nice enough to include me most of the time thus far.

I feel my phone vibrate and I look down, seeing the message icon on the screen. I look back at the three of them still talking, not noticing my distraction, and then swipe up on my phone to read the message.

My heart skips a beat when I see that it’s a text from Dana who I haven’t seen in a while. Apparently, she is coming home soon, though she’s finishing out the rest of this semester online and coming back next semester instead, mostly because of her extended vacation with her family.

I respond back that I’ll come visit her next weekend once she’s home and she sends me a dancing emoji in response.

I’m dragged out of my texting conversation with Dana only when the food we ordered arrives at the table.