Under Her Skin

Chapter 29

The police officer pushed away from me, resisting the urge to rub his eye. He did not want to give the impression of fatigue or frustration. He loved his job. He placed his hand on his badge in an exaggerated pantomime of discipline and continued.

Police Officer (with a dry mouth): We got a call the night the trampoline park opened. Lyssa was crying frantically— she said her daughter was missing. Can you talk about what happened that day?

Me: The original plan was to open the doors right at noon and let the flooding crowd of people in. But when Lyssa got there to find a leaky ceiling and an old cash register that wouldn't open its drawers, she had a panic attack with soft knees and heavy breathing. Matters got worse when Sunny stopped answering her texts.

Police Officer: Where was Sunny?

Me: Nobody knew. I don't know much except that Josh was involved.

Police Officer: Lyssa had paid him as the photographer of the event?

Me: You could say that.

***

Lyssa: Hey honey. Remember to be here at 12.

Lyssa: Tell Josh to be on time. The ribbon-cutting has to be perfect.

Lyssa: Can't believe this big day is here!

Lyssa: Where are you?

Lyssa: Hello?

Lyssa: Call me. Now.

Josh: Sunny, where are you?

Josh: Your mom is freaking out.

Josh: She's going to call the police if you don't answer your phone soon.

Josh: ???

Three hours ago...

Sunny slid on her U-G-Gs and wrapped herself in a warm fluffy green coat. She checked the time. Maybe it was too early. She stayed inside and waited a bit until a minute went by and there was already a boiling flame inside her jacket. She choked a bit and stepped out only to be greeted with a big honk. A yell. A monstrous Ford capable of playing really loud music. The shotgun window rolled down slowly, and a blurry image of a hyper-high version of Selena appeared. She had chosen the hour with delicacy.

"HEY, BITCH GET YO ASS OVER HERE!" Selena was bent over at an angle, like an ostrich ready to run. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her eyes had the shine of afternoon drinks. Sunny knew well enough that she had either been drinking or smoking or both all morning. Selena's brother, the pot-smoking, porn-watching Rogan was by the wheel. He was a young man with furtive eyes and a sullen look, wearing shirt-sleeves and ripped jeans. He uttered not a word and evidently did not know Sunny.

"Dude. What are you doing here?"

"Just shut up and hop on. We're going to the fair." The once-a-year carnival was called D-Rays, but to my surprise, Sunny had never heard of it. She shrugged her shoulders.

"The what?"

"Just get on the car, fuck head."

"I can't. I really can't. I told Lyssa that I'd be there for her today."

"SCREW LYSSA. Now get in the fucking car or you are not going to be too happy." Sunny was so surprised at her determination that for a moment she did not answer.

"No, you don't understand how important this is to her," she said.

"Let's be real, everything is important to Lyssa." Selena was prepared to be persuasive, touching, and admonitory, and expostulating. The situation was not fashionable. Sunny shook her head.