On my request, I didn't have a birthday party that year

On my request, I didn't have a birthday party that year. I'd suggested we'd go out to eat, just Daddy and I, at a nice restaurant. Daddy said he liked that idea very much and let me pick where. After talking to Aunt Cindy, I led Daddy to the restaurant where he had taken my mother on their first anniversary. He said it was a good choice and proceeded with handing me the keys to a new black Impala.

After I celebrated my sixteenth birthday, I began to see Dr. Barnaby regularly, on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays for an hour to two-hour session. Sometimes I felt like talking, sometimes I didn't. Mostly, I told her what was going on in school and what I was doing with my friends. If I was in a bad mood I bitched and moaned to her while she sat there and listened, nodding like one of those bobbing-head dolls.

Spring break was now here and Daddy and I went to his cabin for the weekend. I had gotten permission to bring Gina along and we spent every day outside by the lake, just talking until the sun went down. Sometimes we went for runs, other times we explored the market place. One day we were sitting by the dock sharing a bag of Gummi Worms when Gina dropped a bomb:

"I found Donald Lydecker's address, Maxine."

"You what?" I nearly dropped the bag. "When? How? Where?"

"Never mind that—it's in my suitcase right now. You want it or not?"

"Yes, but where'd you get it?"

"Remember when I said my parents worked for him? I'll admit I did my own share of snooping to my parents file cabinets and I looked up his current address."

I shook my head in disbelief. "That's amazing. There's so much I want to talk to him about…to ask him…oh no…"

"What?" Gina bit off the head of a Gummi Worm and chewed thoughtfully. Then she made a face and spit it into the lake. "Yuck, I hate the green ones."

"Daddy will never let me go see him," I moaned. "Not after how hatefully he spoke of Manticore. I'm sure he hated Lydecker as well. Gina, I'm so close!"

"Well, I think you should ask Doctor Barnaby. Maybe she'll help you get your way."

I winced and shook my head. "Nah. I don't think she can help me with that. She's already so deep into my inner psyche that she might drown."

Gina cracked up and shoved me playfully. "This from the girl who thought babies came from the stork till she was thirteen."

I laughed and shoved her back. It felt good to laugh with her again. It felt like I hadn't done it in ages. "Well, if I do go see him, I can't tell him who I really am. I'll have to wear a wig, too."

"Why?"

"I look so much like my mother that if he remembers what she looked like, he'll know who I am and it'll blow everything. I'll wear that blond wig, I think. The one that you used when you were Marilyn Monroe last year for Halloween. "

"Who will you say your name is? You can't say Maxine Cale, could you?"

"No. I can't say your name either. He knew your parents," I propped my head up on my hands and rested my elbows on my knees. "I'll just make one up."

"Mandy Core," joked Gina. "'Hi, I'm Mandy Core'." She cracked up.

"I'll use Zandra Barnaby," I decided. "I don't think anyone will mind."

"Dr. Barnaby might."

"She doesn't have to know."

Gina shook her head. "Last year I couldn't get you to make a speech in front of our English class and now you're talking about facing your mother's enemy? Wild. Maybe knowing all this about your mom made you a stronger person."

Maybe. But, what now? I had a plan, I had a disguise, I had a car and I had an alias. How was I suppost to get away from Daddy?

"Well, maybe you can say we're going shopping," Gina suggested. "Take your Impala and hightail it to Lydecker's."

"I don't know…I suppose it'll work…but what if we do say we're going shopping and we come home later than Daddy would figure?"

"Say that we ran into Ro. Her parents have a place up here, right?"

"Yeah. We can call Daddy and tell him we're going to hang at Ro's house for a while….perfect."

"C'mon—I'll show you the address."

We ran up the dock but I stopped short when I saw a familiar car in the driveway, between my Impala and Daddy's Aztec.

"Whose car is that?" Gina asked me.

It was a red, beat-up, unrecognizable make but the license plate was unforgettable: ORGNL CNDY.

"Aunt Cindy," I groaned. "Just what I need."

Gina and I walked into the cabin and were greeted by the scent of Daddy's stuffed baked potatoes. He and Aunt Cindy were talking in the kitchen. We tried to sneak past but Aunt Cindy and her sharp hearing caught us.

"Ain't it odd? It's my Neena and Gina," she joked, putting down the coffee mug she cradled in her hands. She made her way over to us and planted a kiss on our cheeks. Aunt Cindy had known Gina longer than I had. She and Charles Robinson were working stiffs at the hospital in their late twenties where he now worked. There, they both did clean up jobs and answered phones and did volunteering and after Aunt Cindy quit, she kept in touch with Charles.

"How yo' momma and daddy, Gina?" Aunt Cindy asked.

"Great," Gina smiled.

"What brings you here, Aunt Cindy?" I asked.

"I was in the 'hood, baby boo. Can't I come up an' see my favorite li'l goddaughter and my late boo's husband without a reason?"

"Umm…"

"Chill, boo. I'm visitin' my new main lady, Ivory," Aunt Cindy winked. "But she's at work, y'know? So I thought I'd come up here'n say hey."

"Ivory? What ever happened Verona?"

Aunt Cindy laughed, "Neva you mind, baby boo." She winked and tugged my curls playfully.

"Are you staying for dinner, Cindy?" Daddy asked. "We'd love to have you."

"Nah, boo. But thanks fo' the invite. I be comin' again sometime this week. Aine much t'do while Ivory's at work."

Aunt Cindy left an hour later and then Gina and I were free to go into our bedroom. Gina dug around in her suitcase and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper with her frenzied handwriting scribbled about. I snatched it away and read it aloud.

"'Donald M. Lydecker, 276 Zwaboda Road. Vericonda, Oregon'?" I moaned as I read the state. "Damn it, Gina! Oregon?"

"Yeah, it surprised me, too. I would've thought he lived in Wyoming. That's where Manticore was, in Gillette. But my parents' files says he lives in this place called Vericonda. It's about a mile from Portland. Maybe he wanted to get as far away as possible from that hellhole."

"We can't tell Daddy that we're going to the mall when we're really going to Oregon, Gina. You're crazy!"

"So we'll say we're spending the night with Ro," she rolled her eyes and shrugged off her jacket.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. "Gina, that's going too far…"

"You want this?" Gina took the paper from me and waved it in my face. "Want it? I know you want it, Maxine. For a second you had some spark. I saw it. It's deep inside here," Gina poked my stomach just above my bellybutton, "but it's afraid to come out. Once you're afraid of being too far from Daddy, you shrink like a salted slug. I'm sorry if I'm being mean, Maxine, but trust me—you need this. If you want to stop seeing Dr. Barnaby day after day, week after week, you'll need to face this up."

The next day we went into town and bought two wigs: a light brown one for Gina and a blond one for me.

*

"So, girls," Daddy said as he served up waffles with blueberries on Friday morning. "What are your plans today?"

I stole a side-glance at Gina, who nodded so I could go ahead, "We're going for a drive to the mall," I explained. "We met Ro—Rosaida Clintock—in town yesterday and she wants to take us to a mall up by her place."

"Sounds fun," he said. "Will you be gone for the day?"

"Possibly. She lives about twenty minutes from here and the mall is another thirty from her place. "

Daddy gave it some thought as he chewed. "Well," he said between bites. "As long as you're home by a respectable hour. Say, nine PM?"

"Eleven," I bartered.

"Ten."

"Eleven-thirty."

"Ten-thirty."

"I'll take it," I surrendered. "If you want we can give you Ro's cell phone number. She takes it everywhere."

"I'd appreciate it, Maxine."

Gina scribbled it down from memory on a napkin and handed it to Daddy. "And this is Ro Clintock's cell phone?"

"Yes," Gina and I answered at the same time.

"I never thought Zelda was the kind of mother that would get Ro a cell," Daddy said skeptically.

"Ro bought it herself as a birthday present," Gina said. "Trust us, Mr. Cale—Ro knows what she's doing. We're going to drive Maxine's car up there and then leave it at Ro's and then take Mrs. Clintock's car to the mall."

"Well, okay," Daddy said carefully. "But I want you back no later than ten-thirty PM sharp." He stressed sharply.

"No problem, Daddy," I promised. "I'll make sure we'll bring you back something real special."

At nine AM, Gina and I readied ourselves to face Lydecker. We dressed in our normal clothes—jeans and T-shirts—and put some nicer clothes (mini dresses) in my backpack and the wigs in Gina's. I was really going out on a limb, I decided.

"Ready, Zandra?" she asked once in the car, using my false name.

"As I'll ever be, Catherine," I answered, using hers.

We were on the road for about five minutes when Gina took out the map she'd gotten at the same time we found our wigs.

"Portland is here," she pointed. "We're here." Her finger pointed to another spot. "If we take Route Ninety…"

"Hey, Geen?" I asked.

"Yeah?" Gina didn't take her eyes off the map.

"Whose number did you give Daddy? Was that really Ro's cell phone?"

"No. It's my mother's old cell that she gave to me. I have it hidden in my backpack. I just gave your dad that number."

"You are good," I said.

"I know it. I'm going to put on that bitchin' wig," Gina reached into the backseat and pulled out her backpack. She unzipped it and pulled out the sandy brown wig with curly hair. I put my eyes back on the road while Gina readied herself. The next time I looked, blond-haired, blue-eyed Gina with the black-framed glasses was gone. In the passenger seat was the brunette Catherine.

"Bonjour," she greeted with a silly smile, batting eyes and a French accent. "Mon nom est Catherine DuMoulin. I am looking for zee Colonel Lydecker? Ah, mon captain. Zat Colonel…he ez très beau, no?"

I had to laugh out loud. She had decided this "road trip" would be the perfect place to launch her acting career.

"I think I'll be a French tourist," she decided earlier.

At the next light, I pulled out my wig. It was a bobbed cut, so blond it was almost white. I pulled my hair up into what looked like a bald wig and then placed the hairpiece on and looked in the mirror.

"I think I'll be German," I laughed. "Hallo, ist mein Name Zandra. Ich bin aus von der Stadt heraus. Ich bin hier auf Geschäft."

"What did you say?" Gina looked bewildered.

"I said my name was Zandra and that I was from out of town, here on business."

"Where did you learn German?"

"Daddy. He uses lots of different languages and German is one he uses a lot."

"Not fair. I only know a few phrases and you speak fluently!" Gina pouted. She shook her heads, "I could never compete with a girl who's half-Manticore, half-computer genius." She peered at the map again. "This trip, without traffic, will take us almost two and a half hours, roughly. With the traffic, it could take up to three."

"Good thing we don't have to be back until ten. It's nine AM, we'll get there by maybe noon. Stay till maybe five if we're not kicked out first, and then we'll be home by nine PM," I figured quickly.

Gina smirked. "All ready planning to run back home?"

"N-no…"

"C'mon, Maxine. You were, too," Gina giggled. "Okay, we'll take Route Ninety, it looks like. Go left."

I maneuvered my Impala like an expert on the highway. Gina turned the radio on and was singing along to the music and moving her upper body like she was dancing.

We stopped at a Burger King to get some lunch after an hour in a half. I only ordered a vanilla shake. With every mile we got closer to Lydecker, my stomach became more knotted.

"We're almost there," Gina said excitedly when the Welcome to Oregon sign loomed ahead.

"Oh God I think I might be ill," I moaned.

"Why? Lydecker's not anyone you haven't heard of."

"Just the fact of seeing him after so many years makes me jittery…are you sure you have the correct address?"

"I'm sure," Gina swore. "Okay, take this road to Portland and then take that road to Vericonda. Then, Zwaboda Road is to the right of a fork in the road on Kingston Street."

We arrived at Zwaboda Road at around noon. Number 276 was going to be a long way—Zwaboda started with Number 100.

"Well, we're almost there," Gina said excitedly. "This is going to be wild!"

Number 276 was a quaint little yellow house with a brown door and shutters. I pulled up in front of the house and parked. Gina adjusted her wig in the mirror and then adjusted mine.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," I sighed.

We stepped out of the car and went up the walk way. My heart was beating so hard I thought it might pop out of my chest. We stepped up to the front door and I rang the bell.

A young woman wearing a pale yellow cashmere sweater and a pair of jeans answered. She had reddish-blond hair.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"I'm looking for Colonel Donald Lydecker," I announced.

"Anna? Who's there?" a man's voice called, gruffly.

"Some people here to see you, Dad," the young woman answered over her shoulder.

A man with white hair and regal stature with chiseled features came up behind Anna and said, "I'll take it from here, Anna. Go back to fixing that lamp downstairs."

Anna gave us one last look and then turned away and left. Colonel Donald M. Lydecker was now standing before us.