Castles on the Sand

Twenty-One

I don't see Kailie for the rest of the day, except in passing, and she glares at me each time. A text to her phone goes unanswered, so I just decide to leave it. I don't forget about her desire to go visit her sister, though.

At five o'clock, I can't help but stare out the front windows. Maybe, I tell myself, she went to see Kirsten on her own. She doesn't need me, right? The two sisters are probably sitting and chatting.

I try to focus on my homework, which I’ve laid out on the kitchen table.

At five thirty, I find myself staring out the window again. Something feels all wrong. The Kailie I know would have come by to apologize by now and tell me how things went with her sister, if she even went to see her sister. Maybe she had to go straight home from detention, which would have ended an hour ago.

Even though I know it's not entirely rational, I get up, put on my jacket, and head out, tapping out a quick text to my friend to let her know that I'm looking for her.

I take my time, as I walk towards the Inn. On my way up Ridge Road I crane my neck to look at the Inn, as if by staring at the outside I can figure out whether or not my friend is or was there. Her car is.

The wind goes from cool to sharp and biting cold as I draw closer to the bluffs, and when I reach the door to the residence, there's no answer when I knock. I consider knocking on the back door of the Inn itself, but recall my tense encounter with Mr. Beale yesterday and think better of it.

Kailie still hasn't answered my text, so I mull over what to do next. Maybe she went to Kirsten's without me, I reason, so I head out in that direction.

Again, I take my time and search the sidewalks with my gaze for any sign of my friend. When I reach Kirsten's house, I can tell, just from the way people move around inside, that Kailie isn't there. I'd expect the two sisters to sit down and talk, but the shadows inside move around, as if doing evening chores.

I backtrack to my house, the library, then back to the Inn before returning to search around my neighborhood some more. I don't know why I'm searching like this, but everything looks wrong, even though I can't put my finger on why. It's as if I've been taken from my world into a world that is almost identical, but not quite. The houses seem to have more cracks than I remember, and the sky less light at this hour. I pull out my phone and call John.

“Something happened to Kailie,” I say.

“What is it?”

“I don't know. But I know something's wrong. Or maybe I'm just paranoid. I guess I'm just paranoid.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“Well, I haven't seen her since school, but she kind of got thrown in detention for hitting me and was really mad at me so... maybe that's why I haven't seen her.”

“That what you really think?”

“No. I think something's wrong, but I can't figure out why. I can’t shake the feeling.”

“Trust your gut. Have you looked everywhere?”

“Pretty much.”

“Talked to people?”

“I guess I could start doing that right now.”

“Okay. Anything I can do?”

“No. I'll call you.”

We hang up and I head back to Kirsten's where, again, the figures move from room to room and there's no sense of a visitor. Still, this time I go knock on the front door, my knuckles making a hollow sound against the flimsy wood.