Lost Game Notes (Novel)

Chapter 17: Photographs

  Alex didn't get the chance to look at the picture again, nor did he get the chance to talk to Sky the next day. He just wouldn't look at Alex during the entire class, and during lunch break he went to sit at Jude's table. That was the end of the line. Alex now understood that Sky was avoiding him. He didn't want to talk. Simple as that. But why? Had he said, done something?

Sky was sitting with Jude. Was it possible that Sky wanted to be Jude's friend? Alex couldn't wrap his head around the idea. Sky was everything Jude wasn't. But then again, that would give one reason why Sky was avoiding Alex, unlikely as it seemed.

Alex didn't bother searching for Sky when school was over, and as expected, didn't see him either. He couldn't have felt lonelier as he walked home. A thought crossed Alex's mind, pricking into his conscience: This must be how Sky felt when I was ignoring him.

He turned into the front lawn of his house, scanning the drive to see Lawrence's car wasn't there. Just perfect, since Alex had plans of finding that wallet—if Lawrence hadn't taken it with him. It was just what he needed to distract himself from his depressed state.

Alex slowed to a stop at the front porch, staring at the basket of groceries perched on the welcome mat. A sprout of curly red ribbon graced the handle, a note attached to the end of one string. With a frown, Alex squatted to read the unfamiliar handwriting.

Thought you might need these. Love, Kamila.

Alex was so surprised he sat back on his heels. To think Kamila would do such a thing. A strange feeling of gratefulness washed over him, and he carried the basket to the kitchen and set it on the table, fishing out a box of tea and making a cup of it.

He sat at the table, feeling the stress from the day ease out of his shoulders with each sip of the steaming, peppermint liquid. He left Sky out of his train of thought, thinking instead of what he was going to tell Kamila when she called to track his progress. Now that he knew she couldn't be trusted he didn't want to give any direct information.

He finally decided on telling her Lawrence got angry when he mentioned Conan yesterday. As insignificant as it was—considering Lawrence got angry over everything—Alex had to tell her something. He hadn't even figured out much for himself.

Alex set the empty mug down and stood. One problem down, 99 more to go. He went up to Lawrence's room and pushed open the door, drinking in the current state of the room. Neat and precise. Dawn must have gotten that quality from Lawrence.

Alex looked over the desk first, ignoring boring law papers. He didn't know what made him think Lawrence would have miraculously left his wallet behind, but he saw the corner of that very wallet peeking out from under some papers.

He carefully pulled it out, noticing it was considerably lighter. He flipped it open, and his eyes fell right on the grinning face of a young Lawrence. He took some time to study the two boys, then turned the picture over.

Alex knew Dawn wouldn't have scribbled on Lawrence's possessions, and he was right. Almost. Each corner bore an excruciatingly tiny letter. It spelled f-o-t-o. He said it aloud, and it sounded exactly like photo.

"Photo." Alex repeated the word aloud. And then again. Was he supposed to look for a photo?

"Album!" Alex grinned in satisfaction. "Photo album." That was easy.

Now all he had to do was look for the photo albums. That part wasn't so easy. He had the notion to look in Dawn's bookshelf first, so he did, but found only several copies of Sherlock Holmes and Harry Potter.

Next he scanned Lawrence's bookshelves. Nothing but books on law and phycology. He went downstairs and racked the bookshelf that fit like a puzzle piece below the stairs. There, at the top shelves, Alex found a stack of three photo albums. He gathered them into his arms and carried them upstairs, dropping them unto his bed.

He picked an album at random and cracked it open. The words Family Album were printed on the first page. His breath caught when he saw the first picture. Olivia sat perched atop a swing, gripping the chain as though she was about to swing forward. Her sky-blue eye stared straight into the camera, the grin on her face warm, yet challenging.

It must have been a long time ago, Alex couldn't remember seeing that sparkle in her eyes. The pictures following were several of Alex, few of Dawn, fewer of Olivia and one or two of Lawrence. There was only one photo that portrayed all of them. Almost. Lawrence was the one grinning, tousled russet hair pushed back, and arm securely wrapped around Olivia's shoulders.

Olivia stared straight into the camera, the lines of her mouth stiff. She wore a loose fitting sundress, showing a slightly rounded belly. Clutched in her arms was a young, pint sized boy. Alex wore overalls and tiny sandals, seeming content in his mother's arms with a squishy thumb in his mouth.

The crunch of gravel underneath tires had Alex straightening with a snap. He rolled off his bed and went to the window, nudging the blinds back to stare at Lawrence's car. The car stopped, but no one came out. Alex pressed his face against the glass and squinted. There were two people. Lawrence and... Kamila?

The driver's door pushed open and Lawrence stepped out, running his fingers through his hair. Sure enough, Kamila slid out from the opposite side. Her dark curls were pinned up, her eyes bright and animated. The "baby" personality, Alex found himself thinking. Yes, he could read the innocence all over. Anyone she hadn't told, like Lawrence, would be easily fooled. Even Lawrence.

Lawrence lifted his amber eyes up just then, catching Alex's gaze. Alex dropped the blinds and stumbled back, heat flushing his cheeks. Muttering, he wheeled and dropped unto his bed, torn between stuffing the albums under the bed or flipping through them and trying to look natural. Before he could decide, the door opened, letting the sound of Lawrence talking on the phone from downstairs filter through.

"Hey, Alex. Mind if I come in?" Kamila stood in the doorway, glancing over the pictures on the bed with evident interest.

"Sure." Alex shrugged.

Kamila stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "Doing some spring cleaning?"

Alex looked at her over his eyebrows, past his bangs."What?"

Kamila motioned to the bed. "Cleaning up."

"Why should I be cleaning pictures?" Alex didn't understand.

"I mean organizing them, you know?" She paused, then scooped up a baby picture, gushing, "Is this you? Awww, look at that. Baby Alex."

Alex scowled. "Look at some newer pictures."

Kamila said nothing but studied the photo intently. After a few heartbeat of silence, the smile faded from her face, she laid the photo down, moving to look at the others.

She touched the album Alex had already looked through. "Can I?"

Alex nodded, flipping open the last album. Kamila sat on the bed and began to look through. Once in a while she would make a comment.

"Where's Dawn in all of these?" She asked.

Alex stared ahead of him, thinking. He said slowly, "I think...I think Lawrence and Olivia divorced before...or after she was born. I don't remember. There should be one of her in there."

To himself, he thought that maybe Olivia had taken photos of Dawn herself when they moved away. If she had, it would all be in Dawn's room.

A choking sound from Kamila had Alex looking up. She had a hand clapped over her mouth, her eyes glistening with tears.

Alex dropped his gaze to the last page of the album. The family photo.

Kamila, taking a couple deep breaths, composed herself. "Olivia, your mother, was my friend. I just didn't ever think she would die so—so suddenly."

"You were her friend?" Alex asked, stacking up the albums.

"We were the best of friends." Kamila smiled, a distant look entering her eye. Then she gave him a sidelong glance. "I could tell you my story, how I got to know Olivia, if you want."

"You mean your life story? How you ended up asking innocent teens to spy on their fathers?"

Kamila had the decency to look embarrassed. "If that's how you call it."

Alex sank back on the pillow propped against the headboard, waiting for her to go on.

"I and Olivia knew each other since childhood. Olivia was the most unselfish, forgiving person I ever knew. She was always ready to give a hug, ready to listen and ready to love. She had her dreams of being the best mother, I had dreams of being a journalist and travel the world.

"Eventually, my wishes were granted and I travelled up north to a big time printing press. But that also meant I lost touch with Olivia, as busy as I was. I learnt—through an email, that she had married to a man named Lawrence. I had worked with Lawrence and his colleagues once, and it wasn't an experience I liked to remember. He was over-demanding, money driven, bossy and snobbish. I couldn't understand why Olivia would marry someone like him, but then again Olivia was quite unpredictable."

Alex straightened, feeling as though one of his biggest questions could now be answered. "Why did she—"he began to say, but Kamila cut him off.

"Like I said, Olivia was quite unpredictable. Not long after she emailed me about you and the arrival of Dawn. I hated the way important events like this had been reduced to a few sentences in an email, but I pushed my guilt away and focused on my work. Until..."

Kamila's words tapered, and she gazed ahead of her, which was the leaf shaped clock hanging o the wall.

A sigh went past her lips. "Until I learned of the accident." She recited the next words, like she had memorized them. "A car coming from the opposite side lurched off the lane and the cars crashed."

Alex felt his world take a drastic turn, and suddenly it was his mind spinning out of control. He blinked his eyes to focus. "Olivia died in a car accident?" His voice held enough disbelief for Kamila to raise her eyebrows. She nodded silently.

"Why are you telling me this?" Alex demanded. "I don't want to hear it.

"It's part of the story." Kamila smoothed down the wrinkles on her skirt.

Alex turned away for a moment, heart pounding racing. Who the hell was Conan then? When had that supposed attempt of murder happened? Why? Had Dawn been giving him false information?

"You didn't know about this, did you?" Kamila questioned softly. Her voice wasn't condemning, just understanding.

Alex shook his head, trying desperately to hold back sudden tears.

This was too much.

His mother had not been murdered like he thought. There was no one to pin the blame on, no one to torture. Nothing but a mere car crash, an accident that took his mother away from him, forever.

Stubborn tears leaked out the corners of Alex's eyes, and he batted Kamila's outstretched hand away.

"I think you should leave now," he choked, rolling over unto his stomach to bury his face in his pillow and sob.

He didn't hear Kamila leaving the room. He didn't care. She had changed everything. His mother had died in a car crash, upon impact, probably. But where did the man named Conan fit, then? If he wasn't important, Dawn wouldn't have included him in the game of lost notes. He could...ask Kamila, she might know.

The image of two names circled in red flashed in Alex's mind, and he decided he'd ask her if she knew about a Hudson. Conan and Hudson. She owed him that much.