The Purgatorium (6 page)

Soon all the guys were singing the song loudly and cheerfully—even Vince, who rarely seemed to speak. Daphne had to admit this helped. She gave Cam a smile of gratitude in the dim light of Larry’s flashlight as he continued singing in his boisterous voice.

They took turns singing other songs. Cam started humming the
Imperial March
from
Star Wars
. And the others joined in.

Except for Daphne. She focused on her breathing and fixed her eyes on the mouth of the cave. After what seemed like an eternity, the tide moved down, and they were able to crouch into their kayaks and maneuver safely out.

In the sunshine and the fresh air, Daphne shouted hooray. She felt joyful to be out and free. When they passed the sea lions basking in the sun, she shouted hello to them. She shouted hello to the sun. She shouted hello to the sky and the kelp and everything she saw.

As if it weren’t already obvious to the others in her group she shouted, “I’m so glad to be out of that cave!”

Back in her room, alone, in the warm and pleasant jet streams of the shower, Daphne knew it had all been a game. She had wanted to call Cam out on it, but hadn’t. Why hadn’t she?

Because she already knew what he would say: He would deny it just as he had denied his knowledge of the elevator getting stuck. She couldn’t trust him. He was part of the mysterious nature of this strange therapy of Dr. Gray’s. This thought made her sad, and her eyes filled with tears. Cam was her only friend and she couldn’t trust him. Not for the first time, she wondered if she had it in her to continue. What other exercises did the game makers have in store for her?

Luckily, the stairs were dry Sunday night when Cam escorted Daphne up to the dining hall. Stan was not at dinner but was camped on the west end of the island by the Chumash ruins. Daphne found herself missing his company, feeling like he was the only person who was normal and trustworthy on the entire island.

After dinner, she told Cam she wasn’t going on anymore outings and that she planned to stay in her room until they left in the morning. He continued to act like the incident in the cave had been nothing but an accident, but he didn’t push her to leave the room. Instead, they watched a movie together—
The Amazing Spiderman
— (one of their favorites). Afterward, she asked him to stay the night.

“I don’t want to be alone,” she said. She didn’t think she could go through with her plan if she were by herself.

They were sitting in the striped chairs with their feet on the coffee table. He said, “I usually don’t just sleep when I stay the night with girls, Daphne Janus.”

“Well I’m not any ol’ girl, Cameron Turner.”

“Do you talk to Brock?”

Daphne closed her eyes and sighed. “You know I don’t.”

“So it’s safe to say it’s been a while since you…” he whistled.

She glared at him. “Shut up! You think…”

His eyes widened. “What, never?”

“Would you stop?” She kicked him, but not hard.

“Maybe you need a friend with benefits. That’s all I’m saying.”

He was too cute to be mad at. “You lost that chance when you brought me to this creepy island under false pretenses.”

“So there was a chance?”

She shook her head and smirked. “You’re my best friend. I never want to screw that up.” A lump rose to her throat as she considered the possibility of having sex before she died. Perhaps it was an experience no one should live without. She studied his golden blue eyes, his thin lips, the sweet curve of his neck. She wouldn’t mind pressing herself against his solid chest and losing herself in his arms. It could truly be her last hurrah. Her only one of that kind.

No, that would only make what she was about to do to Cam that much crueler. “Seriously, please stop.”

“I’m sorry. Really.” He gave her a penitent smile. “I’ll stay. And I’ll be good.”

“Why did you bring me here? It’s not what I was expecting.”

“I wish you would trust me, Daph.” He reached for her hand. “I had the most amazing experience here last summer. Life-changing. Dr. Gray is the best. Just give it a chance.”

She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t say anything.

“How about a game of chess?”

“Like the old days?” She brightened.

“Yeah. What do you say? I’ve got a board back in my room. I’ll be right back.”

“Promise?” She didn’t want him to go. “Nothing weird’s gonna happen?”

“I promise.”

She was uneasy until he returned with the chess board.

When she was about to beat him for the second time, she said, “You better not be letting me win.”

“How insulting. Quit rubbing it in.” He gave her a hurt look.

“Just checking.”

“I haven’t played in like forever.”

“Neither have I.”

She felt awkward, after what he had said earlier, when they decided to call it quits and go to sleep. She left the TV on, needing the background noise. Although she was conscious of Cam lying in the bed beside her, it took less than sixty seconds for her thoughts to wander to Brock.

As soon as Cam’s breathing became shallow and regular, she slipped from the covers and crept to the kitchenette. She took one of the knives and went to the bathroom, where she closed and locked the door and turned on the light.

It was no kind of life having to face the ones you hurt day in and day out. She couldn’t stand to look her parents in the eye and see their pain reflecting back at her. They blamed her. Her mother had even said so.

That terrible morning when Daphne had realized what had happened to Kara, she had screamed and fallen in a heap on the floor.

“It was Joey!” Daphne had said. “I heard him go in Kara’s room. I heard banging.”

Her mother’s face had stretched into almost comical proportions, her eyes wide as she had asked, “You mean you heard and did nothing?” Daphne just now had this thought: Extreme responses to comedy and tragedy look the same.

Daphne had fallen in a heap on the floor and had wanted to curl up and die, too.

“You mean you heard and did nothing?” her mother had said. The words played over and over in Daphne’s mind. “You mean you heard and did nothing?”

Kara would be alive if Daphne had gotten out of bed that night. And Joey probably wouldn’t have gotten so sick. Everyone’s lives were ruined because she had done nothing to save them.

But she’d been happy for the first time in two years here on the island. She thought the happiness came from knowing she would finally leave behind her miserable life and spare herself the pain of looking into her parents’ eyes, and yet, now she wondered if there had been something more to it than that.

She saw her mother’s wide mouth and her wide eyes, looking at Daphne with utter disbelief. “You mean you heard and did nothing?”

Her mother blamed her for Kara’s death, even if she tried to pretend otherwise later. Kara was gone because Daphne had been too lazy to get out of bed. A silent scream pressed against the walls of Daphne’s skull. She was the scream, and she wanted out.

She took the steel blade of the knife and held it to her wrist. From her internet research, she knew the jugular would be quicker, but she’d have to look in the mirror to get it right, and she was afraid to see her own face looking back at her. This way, she could lie on the floor and not have to fall and hurt herself. The pain would be brief, according to the research.

Soon she’d go into shock and feel nothing.

As Daphne held the knife to her skin, she heard a commotion in her room, and then Cam was at the bathroom door, knocking.

“Daph? I need to pee! Let me in!”

Really?

As she stood up and hid the knife in a drawer, she became aware of how fast her heart was beating and of how badly her hands were trembling, which was weird, because she had thought she was so calm.

“I’m going to piss on myself if you don’t open this door!”

“Okay, okay!” She opened it and flew by him, heading straight for the bed. She didn’t want him to see the state she was in, especially with the bedside lamp flooding the room with light.

That’s when she noticed the front door was open.

“Cam?”

“Yeah?” he said through the bathroom door, which he’d left ajar.

She stepped backwards toward him, keeping her eyes on the open front door. “Why is the door open?”

She heard the toilet flush.

“Huh?” He stepped into the room. “Oh, I thought I was going to have to take a whiz outside.” He closed the front door and locked it. “Sorry. Desperate times, and all that, you know…”

She narrowed her eyes again.

“Look at you!” he said. “You look like a ghost!”

“You keep saying that.” She climbed into bed, avoiding his eyes, and turned off the lamp.

He crawled in next to her. “Come here, Daph. I promise I won’t do anything but hold you.”

His body heat both calmed and excited her as she laid her head on his chest and curled her body up against his. One of his arms was beneath her neck, his hand caressing her arm. He reached over and cupped his other hand to the back of her head in a way that was so comforting that tears formed in her eyes. She closed them and sighed, having been on the verge of hyperventilating, but his hands moving through her hair helped her to slow down her breathing and get a grip.

“Cam I…” she didn’t know what she wanted to say.

He stroked her hair and whispered, “SShh, it’s okay.”

She felt herself melting, her muscles relaxing, the beat of his heart syncing with the beat of hers.

“I’m glad you came to this island with me,” he said softly. “It’s supposed to be fun. I’m sorry it hasn’t been.”

But she was having fun
some
of the time—more fun than she’d had in years. “I’m glad I came, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s a beautiful place, and fun, too.”

“But?”

She shrugged.

“Daph, don’t you know what a beautiful girl you are? What a sweet, smart person you are?”

Why was he telling her this? Did he have some clue as to what she had tried to do just before he came to the bathroom door? If so, how? Was she giving off some kind of vibe?

“Don’t you know how much your parents and Joey love you, and how much I care about you?”

She stiffened, not sure what to say, but mortified by the thought that he somehow knew. Why else would he say these things? “Quit getting all mushy. If you’re trying to seduce me, it’s not working.”

He laughed and pulled her close against him. “Oh, Daph.”

She kept her head on his chest, catching with one hand the tears that poured from her eyes.

They were quiet for a while, and then Cam said, “No matter how much you cook a Wookie steak, it always comes out Chewy.”

She slapped his chest. “That’s terrible!”

“Made you laugh.”

And it had.

Daphne felt something poking her. She brushed it away.

“Daphne, wake up.”

“Huh?” She opened her eyes to see Cam dressed and leaning over her.

“There’s no boat out today,” he said. “I’m sorry. I thought they came and went every morning, but apparently, they only come twice a week.”

She stretched and stifled a yawn. “So when’s the next one due?”

“Tomorrow.”

She looked at the clock by the bed. It was almost noon. “I gotta pee.” She got up and went to the bathroom.

After she finished using the toilet, she washed her hands and looked at herself in the mirror.

She dried her hands and opened the drawer, where she had hidden the knife. It wasn’t there. She reached her hand into the drawer and felt all around.

The knife was gone. The heat left her bones. Maybe Cam
had
known.

“I’m hungry,” she said, as she crossed the room to the kitchenette.

“I can take you for lunch.”             

She opened the silverware drawer to find all of the knives had been removed. “Cam?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you do something with the kitchen knives?”

“What? Uh-uh. Why?”

She didn’t answer.

“So, you wanna grab a bite?”

She didn’t feel like putting on a happy face in front of other people. “I’ll just fix a sandwich here.”

He came up behind her and turned her to face him. He had a strange look in his eyes, like he was afraid.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He gave her a hug and muttered, “Nothing.” But before he released her, he stuffed a folded piece of paper into her hand and whispered, “Shh. We’re being watched.”

“What?” Her mouth dropped open.

“Shh. Don’t react.” He pulled away. Then he said in a normal volume, “I’ll call you later. You okay hanging out here till dinner?”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m wanted by Dr. Gray.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Daphne didn’t like the look on his face.

“I gotta go. I’ll come by around five to take you to the show.”

“What show?”

“There’s a show at the amphitheater this evening.”

“You don’t seem happy about going.” 

He took her in his arms once more and whispered, “They’re listening. I can’t talk now.” He pulled away, gave her a desperate look, and then ran off toward the main building.

She wanted to call out to him, but was afraid. What in the world was going on? She closed and locked her door, her hearting beating fast. When she opened the paper he’d slipped in her hand, the first lines read:
Take this with you into the bathroom. It’s the only place in the room they don’t have surveillance.

She looked around before hastening to the bathroom and closing the door. They’ve been watching her? This whole time?

She quickly read the rest of the note:
There’s something you need to know. My mom sent me here last summer to try and help me through a difficult time. It worked. I loved it. I’m a volunteer this summer. Your parents sent you here because my mom told them about my experience.

I need you to know that Dr. Gray wants to turn you against me as part of your therapy, so you’ll be less dependent on me. They think I’m falling in love with you, and maybe I am, and maybe I’ve sort of always loved you, and that’s not good for the program. I’m sorry I lied to you. I hope this place helps you like it did me. But things get bad before they get better. Love, Cam.

Daphne read the letter again, overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. Maybe he loved her? Her parents had sent her here? Cam may have meant to clue her in, but his letter further confused her about everything.
But things get bad before they get better
. This was a warning.

She couldn’t hide out in the bathroom all day, so she eventually tore up the note and flushed it before returning to the striped chair to sip on a soda, self-conscious about her every action. The fact that she was being watched made it impossible for her to relax. Her eyes fell on Hercules slaying the hydra.

So her mother and father
had
sent her here, she thought again.

She had wanted to die last New Year’s Eve night when she had swallowed all the Prozac (and the Tylenol just to be sure). Brock had given up on her, had said that maybe they needed a break. She hadn’t blamed him, really. She couldn’t stand to look at him because she was so ashamed. So ghastly ashamed. How could she live a happy life with Brock when her sister was dead and her brother plagued by voices? It wasn’t fair and it was all her fault. And Brock deserved someone who was allowed to be happy.

When Kara died, her mother had said to Daphne, “You mean you heard and did nothing?” She immediately apologized to Daphne, but the damage had already been done.

Mothers can be so cruel. Daphne wondered whether her mother had sent her to this resort for therapy or punishment. It had to have been her mother’s idea. Her father would never have sent her here. But since Kara’s death, her father had pretty much been a robot, doing whatever her mother said.

If her mother and father were behind this, then maybe she could endure whatever lay ahead. Maybe this was a chance for her to atone for her sins. Then she could die absolved.

By the time Cam called, Daphne had changed into a light summer dress and sandals, another new outfit from her mother. She still didn’t feel like being around others, especially with this new revelation, but she would force herself to carry on. It was time to pay the piper.

As soon as she saw Cam’s face, she knew she was not to refer to the note, so obvious was the warning in his eyes. She kissed him on the cheek to reassure him. She would not allow whoever was watching them to suspect Cam of breaking any rules. Then she recalled what he’d written about loving her, and she felt her face get hot.

“You look beautiful, as always,” he said solemnly.

“You, too.” And he was beautiful, she realized again. One of the most beautiful people she knew. And she was grateful that he was trying to help her, even though this bizarre place creeped her out. She knew he cared for her, and she felt warm and comforted by that knowledge.

Together they walked past the pool and tennis courts in the opposite direction of the beach, past the long string of cabanas and the clearing where the jeeps were parked. They ascended a narrow flight of concrete steps tunneling through rock, too tight for Daphne’s comfort. In a moment they emerged onto a canyon ridge. Below them stretched twenty rows of stadium-style seats carved in the rocky slope of the canyon. Further down was a platform with the other side of the canyon wall as its backdrop. The entire amphitheater looked about fifty yards in diameter, half the size of a football field.

Daphne recognized the twenty or so people already seated in the audience. Hortense Gray sat with Arturo Gomez, Lee Reynolds, Mary Ellen, and Phillip closer to the top of the stadium, but Cam and Daphne didn’t stop to say hello. In the middle were others she recognized, including Roger and some of the waiters from the banquet hall. She was surprised none of the younger crowd was there. Cam led her to the center front, where the stage was eye level.

“You sure you want to sit this close?” Daphne asked.

“It’s not a splash zone or anything. This isn’t Sea World.”

Daphne could tell Cam was still upset, and this made her more frightened of what lay ahead. As they sat on the warm concrete seat with the hot sun beaming down on them, Daphne began to sweat from more than the heat.

Shortly, three people appeared at the right of the stage to the soft, slow chords of string instruments or a recording off-stage. The actors wore hooded white cloaks, concealing their identities. Their feet were bare, and Daphne immediately thought of a cult. As the music escalated, the performers made their way to the center of the stage, their backs to the audience. In the center back of the stage, an altar rose from the platform, probably by some hidden mechanical means. When the altar reached its full height, the music abruptly stopped with one swift boom of a base drum. The three performers turned to face the audience.

The middle actor sang a song of love and loss, to the sound of a piano. Again, Daphne couldn’t tell if it was a recording or a live performance, but she recognized the voice. It was Larry from the caves, and she was surprised by the lovely sound emanating from the burly, crack-showing Chumash Indian. His smooth, low voice, in its melancholy words, made perfect pitch.

He sang:

I cannot stand to see

How I’ve hurt those close to me;

Ribbons of despair run from their eyes, their eyes.

And ribbons of despair run from my eyes, my eyes.

Don’t look at me

Those of you once close to me;

The fire inside you slowly dies, and dies.

And the fire inside me slowly dies, and dies.

Daphne could have written those words, for they described precisely how she felt. In fact, they reminded her of one of her poems. She closed her eyes to stay off any more tears.

After Larry finished his song, and after the brief applause from the audience, he said, “Bring Limuw forward.”

Two more figures, also in white and hooded, carried a stretcher from the opposite side of the stage, and Daphne wondered by their shape and size if they might be Dave and Vince. On the stretcher lay a girl about Daphne’s age. Her eyes were closed, her arms crossed over her chest, as though she were dead. She wore the same white cloak as the others on stage. For a moment, Daphne had the strange feeling the girl was, in fact, dead.