Rabbit Hole

by Kate Brody

WilliamFRooney75: i never called him back Ted_Head: Why? What did he want? WilliamFRooney75: drugs WilliamFRooney75: i think

Hmmm

albuterol,

Asthma med

The other is by a guy named Gary, whose picture is a cartoon drawing of a mouse in pants, with an erection: You were always my favorite loser.

Chinatown.

Hmmm could Gary be ForgetitJake?

I remember calling Bill’s number, the one my dad had scrawled out in his chicken scratch. He answered. He thought my dad was calling, and he answered right away. He said he never answered.

That's strange

Three separate charges for “Cigars” that appear after Dad’s suicide. Recurring debits for water bottles that never make their way to the house.

Bits of paper still stuck to the glue. The computer-printed RON staring back at me.

Bill Rooney?

“Sharon?”

Oh the pill bottles must have been hers. Sharon Smith

I read somewhere that most people die at twenty-five but are buried at seventy-five.

But what is so bad about that? What is so horrible about a warm bed and a softening body and the properly-timed tragedies of living?

There is no accounting for the gulf between who we were and how we ended up.

Why would I create another vulnerable little person I can’t protect? Why would I expand my heart in a thousand ways that will only hurt? Kids are an enterprise for the lucky or the insane.

After Wolf dies, after Mom dies, I will become invincible. I almost look forward to feeling that sadness, because that will be the bottom. And then I’ll be untouchable.

Mercedes,

Teddy's landlady

Ginger.

Henry's ex wife, so Teddy's exxsister in law

“Ginger is my brother’s wife,” I say, finally putting it together. “Or ex, actually. First wife. I forgot about her.”

“Same age. High school,” Gary says. “We did camp together.”

“Sorry. Parliaments. The cigarettes. I remember, because I thought they were for British people for some reason.

“It’s my money,” I say. “It’s my money that you’ve been spending. You and Dad. And no one ever acknowledges it.”

“Bella?

Ginger's daughter

“Anyway, he tells me that he has reason to believe that Henry lied about his communication with Angie or something. Like before she disappeared. Whenever that was—a decade ago.”

I wonder if Mark thought Henry was involved in Angie's disappearance

“Could your brother be Jake?”

Henry?

All I know is that he never wanted to meet me. If anyone ruined his life, it wasn’t Angie. It was me.

Ashley,

Mickey's roomate

“But she appears in one other photo, from four years ago. In the comments there, Helene called her Olive, the ‘au pair.’”

Is Angie this 'Olive' the au pair?

But what if it was us she was mad at? What if she resented being trapped in the wreckage of Mom’s affair, being collateral damage, being lumped in with me, the product of complete shamelessness?

Mickey holds her hand out to Helene. “I’m her sister.”

I do wonder if Mickey is somehow related to Teddy or Angie

Despite all the braking and frenetic lane switching, I fall asleep with my head pressed to the cold glass, and when I wake up, we’re back home.

I wonder if she is pregnant

“Noelle,”

Teddy's niece

Steven is the youngest member of the faculty at twenty-three.

“I thought that Jamie was supposed to be a good one, but this whole cohort—they’re out of control.”

Oh I bet Jamie is ForgetitJake and he vandalized her car

I do as she says. I spot my brother’s name at the top as the plaintiff. The document is filled with lots of tiny font. Several phone numbers. A court date. A notice of temporary restraint until the hearing—no contact, court ordered.

A single line post: I was with Angie Angstrom on the night she died.

Jake

Angie? I type into the reply box.

Jake could be Angie

“He’ll be fine,” Mickey says. “You saw his house, his wife. He has a nice life.” “I told you to stop,” I say. “When you opened the door.”

I'm starting to not like Mickey

Indigo Moon with the same tattoos I’ve come to know so well.

You shouldn’t be able to love bad people. You shouldn’t be able to miss them.

Quote?

She goes back to filing. “That’s fucking annoying,” she says, halfway under her breath.

Okay I think Mickey is messed up. It's like she is trying to become Angie

Franny,”

Mickey's aunt?

hokum.

Nonsense

In the dark, she could be my sister.

Celeste continues: Mickey has secrets. She sometimes feels as though she’s living a lie.

Hmm

“Not much older. I saw an A. Maybe an aunt? Unless your mom’s name began with A?”

I did think maybe Angie was Mickey's mom

More money coming in than going out. $2,000 in February. $2,000 in January. $2,000 in December. Always around the middle of the month. Always a cash deposit.

That was the money Teddy's dad would withdraw

I can feel him inside me, an echo, a virus—the wolf, twitchy and ravenous. I shudder, too. How close I came to a monster. How little I understood.

simian.

Relating or resembling to monkeys

“Graham,

Mickey's friend from school, a tattoo artist

“Now you’ll never get rid of me,” I say.

“Robin Greenleaf?” I hear Mickey in my head, talking to Celeste: What is your full name? Michaela Robin Greeley. “Greeley,” I say.

It’s half-empty, slightly crushed. I turn it over in my hand: Parliaments.