Finally, they left, mumbling long, drawn-out good-byes, lingering in the doorway with their hands in their pockets like someone had died. Zoe told them she'd call if Shadow came back, or if they heard anything from any of the posters they'd hastily put up. Zoe phoned Alice and told her she was sleeping over, and then Lewis came up to tell the girls that dinner was ready. No coaxing in the world could get April to go down, not even for a cup of hot tea. She was still wearing the clothes she'd worn all day, and they were damp and clinging to her cold skin. Zoe put a blanket over her and went downstairs to eat.
The next morning, it
was Zoe who saw him first, when she got up to go pee. On the way back from the bathroom, she sleepily pulled aside the curtain, hoping to see snow. It was still raining, a bleak drizzle through the early morning haze hovering low over the roofs. Then she looked down. At first she didn't register what she was looking at, but her heart did. Her pulse quickened. She felt suddenly dizzy. Something was hanging from the apple tree. A garbage bag? A dark heavy jacket thrown over the fence? A stuffed animal?
It was Shadow, hanging from a rope around his neck, a noose, tied to the same thick branch the mannequin had been hung from. Zoe stared at him for a moment, paws limp, nose pointing to the ground, like there was something interesting there he wanted to get to and if she went out into the rain and cut him down, he'd bee-line for it, tail wagging. Zoe sank to the floor, heart racing.
April was still asleep, lying on her side, quilt pulled up under her chin, one arm clutching her pillow, knees bent out of habit, making the space Shadow had curled up in almost every night of his life, space for her best friend in the whole wide miserably unfriendly world, her best friend who was now softly swaying outside in the cold dank rain, dead.
Zoe didn't wake her
. Instead, she crept down the hall and knocked softly on Barb and John's door.
“For heaven's sake, Lewis.” Barb's voice was gravelly with sleep. “It's not locked.”
Zoe hesitated, and then opened the door.
“Oh, Zoe. What's wrong?” Barb lumbered off the bed and into her robe. “Are you sick? Is it April?”
Zoe stood in the doorway, stunned silent, drinking in the stale perfume of the room: Barb's apple soap, John's spicy cologne that before had seemed so cloying but now was an elixir. She wanted to shut the door and lock the three of them in and never leave
that place. She wanted to crawl between them, go to sleep, and wake up five years old with these plain, solid, faithful people as her parents. People who make their kids eat whole wheat bread and carrot sticks, parents who limit how much TV their kids watch. Parents who'd get their lonely misfit kid a dog in the first place. Parents who'd let that dog sleep with the kid, even if he did shed all over, even if he did start to stink something awful as he got old.
“It's Shadow,” Zoe said. “You better come.”
Zoe led Barb downstairs
. The two of them stood at the patio door, gazing through the rain at the dog. Barb clutched her cross and cried. Zoe stood there, shivering, until Barb caught her breath and managed to speak.
“I don't want her to see.” Zoe almost sighed with relief at Barb's firm decisive tone. “We won't say a word. Not even to John. They can think he ran away, or got hit by a car. Sweet Jesus, anything but this.”
Wordlessly, Zoe followed Barb as she collected shears, a step stool, and a big blue tarp to wrap him in. They'd just stepped out into the rain, both of them in yellow ambulance-issue slickers, when they heard April. They looked up. April was standing, or had just been standing, at her window. Her scream shook the suspended morning, its heartrending force pushing the fog towards the mountains, the rain back up the valley, the clouds back to sea. By the time they got upstairs, by the time Barb sank to the floor and took April in her arms, the sky was a cloudless blue, the cold winter sun peeking over the snow-capped mountains of a brand new year.
Leaf came over to
help John take Shadow down. Barb was still upstairs with April, Lewis had been hurriedly steered out the front door to the neighbors, still in his pajamas, his father's large hands acting as blinders, but still, they whispered. Who would cut the rope? Who would hold his weight? Where they would put him once they got him down?
First though, John called the police. He walked ever so slowly to the phone, like it was ten miles away rather than ten steps. He spoke softly, calmly to the police, and then he went upstairs to pray with Barb and April until the cops arrived. He'd invited Leaf
and Zoe to join them, but Leaf had shook his head for the both of them. They sat huddled on the couch, backs to the window. In the quiet, Zoe could hear John's deep voice intoning upstairs in April's room, pleading with God. Every once in a while Barb's voice would join in for an “Amen,” or “Sweet Jesus.”
“They want a miracle?” Leaf glanced up at the ceiling again. “It's a miracle she hasn't killed herself already, with everything those assholes put her through.”
When Leaf said that, Zoe's mind cleared for a sharp, focused second, and then the idea came, complete and brilliant.
“You're absolutely right.” She lifted his arm off her shoulder and sat up. “It's perfect.”
“What?”
“She did.”
“Did what?”
“She
did
kill herself.”
“What are you talking about, Zoe?”
“Listen,” she grabbed his knee. “Listen to me. After she found Shadow this morning, she hung herself, and she left a note naming the Beckoners,
blaming
the Beckoners.” Zoe stood up and began to pace. “Those girls in Mission were
charged
after that happened there last year. It's brilliant!”
Upstairs the praying was getting louder. John was on his feet, pacing in time with his prayer, his step extra heavy whenever he called out, “Jesus!” And then, all of a sudden, April was at the foot of the stairs. Leaf scrambled over the back of the couch and yanked the curtains shut. Until that moment, it had seemed inappropriate to close them, like they'd be shutting Shadow out, as if he'd done something wrong.
“My dad's on a roll.” April pointed to the chandelier shuddering over the dining room table. “He started out praying for me, and for Shadow. But now he's praying for the Beckoners. I couldn't stand it.” She sat on the bottom step, her good hand held tight between her knees.
“We have an idea.” Zoe sat beside her and explained it all.
”You don't have to go along with it,” Leaf said after Zoe was finished and April still hadn't said anything. “I'm not so sure it's a good idea.”
After another long silence, April got up. She opened the curtains and looked straight at Shadow. “I'll do it.”
The police arriving was
the first part. Zoe watched out of Lewis's window. Sure enough, across the lane and down six doors, Janika's bedroom curtains were open and more than one face was watching. Zoe squinted. Heather, Beck and Janika. Maybe the others were there too, but maybe not, and it didn't matter. The plan would work even if it was only Janika who saw, though Zoe didn't doubt that all the Beckoners were at Janika's that morning to watch the fallout. Zoe watched the girls watch the police arrive. She'd read somewhere once that serial killers start out by hurting animals. Did they know that? Which one of them actually did it, she wondered. Brady? Beck? Had they been stoned? Drunk? High on the hype of each other?
Downstairs, John was dealing with the police. Two cars had come, which only added to the plan but happened only because it was a slow New Year's Day so far for the cops. All four officers had been at the truck stop out by the highway. When they'd heard it was only a dead dog, they'd taken their time, which had been just enough time to convince Barb and John to go along with Zoe's plan.
One set of cops took pictures while the other took notes and questioned John on the front step. John answered each question, and if any of the cops thought he was overly upset over a dead dog, none of them acted like it. John was already acting, even though he wouldn't have to really start until after the police left.
April's dad had not been easily sold on the idea, but then April told him about the mannequin and then told him it was the only thing that would make the Beckoners stop forever. He'd
agreed to go along with it, after taking a few minutes to pray in private about it with Barb upstairs.
Jesus must've agreed. They came down, holding hands, agreeing to the plan as though God himself had whispered in their ears that if they didn't go along with this their precious lamb of His might just go ahead and kill herself for real, or run away and become a crack-addicted whore dying on the streets of Vancouver.
Teo and Simon came over, slipping in through the back. John looked sidelong and critically at them as they climbed the stairs to Lewis's room. Simon and Zoe kept track of what was happening at Janika's window the whole time. While the police were still there, an ambulance pulled up, lights flashing, sirens soberly quiet. Right on time and doing the trick beautifully. The Beckoners were all at the window now, even Brady and Trevor, all crammed together, staring out. Zoe looked through Lewis's binoculars. April came up to look, and so did Leaf, taking turns peeking through the heavy curtains.
“They're shoving past each other to get a better view!” Leaf laughed.
April didn't laugh. She took the binoculars and watched the Beckoners panic.
When the police left
, Zoe went downstairs and joined the others at the table while Barb maniacally served up pancakes. Barb and April and Zoe couldn't eat, but John and Leaf and John's two colleagues, who were actually on call and said they'd be glad to help so long as they weren't called out in the meantime, ate more than their fair share. Simon and Teo stayed upstairs. They said they didn't mind keeping watch. They said they weren't hungry, but Zoe knew it was because of April's parent's disapproval of them.
One of the ambulance attendants had a ponytail and a tribal tattoo circling his left biceps. That was McEwen. He loved the
plan. Doug, the driver, was much older and rather quiet about the whole idea. His jaw clicked when he chewed.
“All right then.” John emptied his coffee mug in one swallow. “Let's get this over with.”
“Yeah, okay,” McEwen shoveled another fork full of pancake into his mouth, downed a glass of orange juice and pushed back his chair. “I'll get the stretcher.”
Doug kept eating, chewing slowly. “Holler when you need me,” he said between clicks.
“Think of it as a movie and we're all the actors,” Zoe said. “Doug, all you have to do is drive. Barb and John will do the hard work.”
“They're going nuts!” Simon called from upstairs. “They're coming outside!”
It was working beautifully.
McEwen was back, a proud grin on his face. “I made sure those little tweakers saw me unroll the body bag.”
John rooted through the storage closet, looking for Annie, the full-sized CPR doll he used when he taught First Aid in the church basement. He yanked her free from the tangle of beach gear and with the help of McEwen zipped her into the black body bag.
It was a creepy thing to see, that full body bagâthe outline of Annie, head to toe. It was very convincing.
“Givin' me the willies,” McEwen said.
Zoe watched Barb and John. They were holding hands, eyes closed, praying again. For what? Annie? April? The Beckoners?
“Get it out of here,” April said, turning away.
“Sure, sweetheart.” McEwen nodded at Doug, who reluctantly put down his fork and wiped his mouth before helping to lift Annie onto the stretcher. As they made their way to the door, Zoe, April and Leaf raced upstairs to join Simon and Teo to watch what the Beckoners would do when they laid eyes on the full body bag being lifted into the ambulance.
The Beckoners were all outside now, as were most of the neighbors too. Barb had worried that might happen, but Zoe
was glad, it only made the charade so much more believable, and Barb could go around later and explain it was just John and his buddies playing a prank.
The Beckoners turned to each other as McEwen and Doug lifted the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. Janika's hands covered her mouth. Jazz stared, arms limp at her sides. Lindsay and Heather argued loudly. Brady and Trevor stood far apart, hands in their pockets, not looking at anybody or each other. Beck sat on the step, head in her hands.
John and Barb wept for real. Zoe didn't have to wonder where they summoned the tears from. All it would've taken would be to imagine if it really was April in that body bag. John put his arm around Barb's shoulders and held her close while McEwen shut the doors and Doug started the engine. Then, as the ambulance drove away, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground, overcome with grief. But it wasn't really grief. The black humor of it had suddenly hit him. He was covering his face so the Beckoners wouldn't see him laughing uncontrollably. Barb helped him up, and then the two of them came inside, leaning heavily on each other.
April handed the binoculars to Zoe. “Now what?”
“Now we wait.” Zoe watched the Beckoners file back inside, shoulders slumped, faces drenched in shock. It had worked. They thought April had killed herself because of them.
The Beckoners had no
one else to turn to except Zoe. When Zoe got home, after she'd set April up with an armload of videos and a bag of junk food, the curtains pinned shut, there were ten messages from Janika, all begging her to call. Zoe took a deep breath and dialed.
“What happened?” Janika was frantic. “What's going on?”
“Like you don't know.” Zoe's voice was steel.