The Stirlings and the Missing Statue

Chapter Twenty-Three: Ding, Ding, Ding! Nobody There

Callum burped and grimaced at the gurgle of green pepper scented reflux that caught in his mouth. The plate of meat and beans, undeniably delicious even for street food procured for them by the police offers, did little to change his mind about tacos, burritos and the like. His tastes always leaned toward the Mediterranean where his people were from—even though he had no idea who his people actually were—and dishes heavy with carbs but light on spice. No one there to care but him in his bedroom, he belched again and pounded his chest to rid himself of the remainder.
He flopped onto his bed, aware that his dirty clothes and hair would immediately stain the linens, but the bed, even unmade as it was, was cleaner than his at home. As meticulous as he was about his studies and his attempts to come out on top in every subject, he was not as well known for keeping things tidy and neat like Ez was.
"That's two for each of us. Declan who?" Callum mimicked his sister from earlier. It was eerie that she seemed more interested in the treasures now, when she'd been the barely interested in the cave and had picked through what essentially amounted to trash. He picked up the tankard that was meant to be Declan's now and examined the clay exterior that was carved with intricate designs and glazed in bright colors. Still nothing special, he determined. He squirmed off his bed and crossed to the dresser where he'd put away his clothes the day—two days, he realized, forgetting that they'd lost a day to sitting in the police station—before. He placed the relic that he would give to Declan once he turned up underneath his remaining clean shirts and then closed the drawer.
His laptop, still plugged in and sitting on the nightstand next to the bed, dinged a notification. He fell back onto the bed and pulled the laptop over, letting the cord unplug itself and fall somewhere under the bed. When he cracked the lid, he could see another dozen or more notifications in the tray. The emails he ignored but the private message from his girl back home, he clicked on it with an over enthusiastic tap that nearly cracked the mouse scratchpad. The browser window opened and, to his annoyance, he had to log back into his account before he could access his direct messages. It felt like an eternity before he could navigate to her message. The chat appeared as before and he found an impatient stream of texts that were less than a minute apart.
Are you alive?
I got the email! I'm in!
Hello?
Well I guess you're probably out or
something.
I'll try you later.
Callum scanned her messages and placed his fingers on the keyboard to reply, but hesitated. He'd been so excited to see her messages, to hear from the girl who lit up the room and made his day, that he'd momentarily forgotten that he had even one brother or that one of his brothers was missing in Mexico. Then again, he couldn't just launch into such dramatic information when she had exciting news.
Hey! That's great! I'm so happy for
you!
Yeah. I was out. Long story.
He stopped there, his fingers urging him to further explain, but he decided that was enough for now. It was getting late, but she was a couple of hours behind and would see the messages on her phone. She was sure to reply soon, but Callum was supposed to be thinking of Declan, not his lab partner back home. He closed the laptop and moved to put it back on the nightstand. The notification for a new message dinged and he nearly dropped his laptop. He pulled it back open and scanned over the message she'd sent.
I'm so excited! I knew I'd get in, but,
you know. I was just anxious.
Well I don't think you ever had to
worry. But I get it.
Thanks.
So how is it? Oaxaca, right? Isn't the
food pretty awesome there?
Callum had his fingers poised on the keyboard to reply, but he had to reread her last message three times before it made any kind of sense. She must have forgotten that they weren't due to go into the main city until later.
We haven't made it into the city yet.
Just the little village where we're
staying.
Oh, right. You sent me your itinerary.
Let me look...
Callum waited while she might have been opening the Google Doc his sister had setup for the trip. He'd added access for all of his friends so they could see where he'd be since he wouldn't be able to use his phone. That had annoyed Ez but she'd later changed her mind and told him it was probably a good idea. Just in case they go missing in Mexico, he remembered with a slight shudder.
San Luis Amatlán. Why there?
I don't really know. My sister picked
it.
I would have picked somewhere
closer to the beach.
That's what my brother Declan
wanted.
Callum gulped down a swell of emotion as his missing brother flooded his mind once again. The chat window showed that she was typing out a message but he tapped one out and sent it before she could reply.
We went to that cave. All of us. Not
my parents. Just the kids.
Cave? I don't see that on your
itinerary.
Callum's eye twitched involuntarily and he reread her last message.
The cave. Cerro Gordo? You looked
it up.
You said to bring you something
shiny.
Lol. What? When did I say that?
Callum shook his head and sighed nervously. She was typing again but he scrolled up in the chat history so he could send it to her. He hadn't misread anything she said that night before they went to the cave. It was right there in the chat—or it should be. The last message before "Are you alive?" was from two days before his family left, not the night before the cave. It read "Okay, I got your email. Looks good!" He'd sent her an early copy of his resume so he could apply for his own summer internship. The messages with the emojis and them talking about dead people were simply not there. He scrolled back down to their most recent messages.
But a cave, huh? That's cool. Find
anything? Something shiny, I guess?
Okay, that's weird. We were chatting
the other night. You looked up the
cave on Google.
There was no message indicating that she was typing and he imagined that it was her, this time, rereading his message over and over to make sense of what he was saying.
No, that wasn't me.
I haven't talked to you since last
Tuesday. I just thought since you
were asking me about the internship
before we left, that you'd want to
know when I got in.
But the other night, Friday, you said
that you hadn't gotten any word yet.
You told me that in IG just like now. I
just can't find it.
Are you messing with me? I don't get
it, Cal. I definitely didn't have any
word by Friday, but I didn't tell
anyone that. I was too nervous.
Callum stared again at the screen and checked to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Or had he hallucinated their previous chat.
Are you messing with me?
We
He'd pressed enter before he was ready, but he wasn't sure he knew how to continue.
Why would I be messing with you?
You called me a chicken if I didn't go.
Go where? The cave?
I've never heard of anything like it until
today.
Callum started to type out another response, trying to quote back to her all of the emojis she'd sent that had basically dared him to go into the cave.
Look, I just wanted to say hey and tell
you about the internship. Sorry that
someone was messing with you, but it
wasn't me.
This is all pretty weird Cal. And I still
don't really get it.
I think I'm going to get back to my
Netflix binge.
My brother is missing!
We went to that cave because you
He pressed enter again when he saw her response.
Your brother?
What?!!
Um...Mitchell? Or Declan? I'm sorry, I
don't know them very well.
And I didn't tell you to go to some
cave, a cave I didn't even know about!
What's going on with your brother.
Did he fall or something
In the cave? Or did he get lost?
Callum let the messages pour in and barely noticed when she missed some punctuation or seemed to rattle on. The messages from the other night were jumbled and full of barely intelligible emojis that, like him, she hardly ever used. When he didn't respond, she continued to flood his screen with messages.
Callum. What's going on?
Is your brother really missing, or are
you still messing with me?
Callum. Okay. I'm going to call you.
Pick up your phone.
Callum, still stunned and frozen, heard his phone ringing from all the way in the kitchen where it was plugged in to charge. His mother called for him and told him he could answer it and not to worry about the charges. Still, he didn't move.
I have to go. Can't talk.
He sent the message and then closed the browser without waiting for a response. His phone rang again and his mother called down the hallway for him to answer. He heard the notification he'd set up for his browser and his connected Instagram profile ding at least three more times. Other notifications came through—emails, he guessed. Instant messages on other platforms. He ignored them all. He couldn't trust any of them. There was something truly strange and frightening about what had led him to suggesting they visit the cave. Someone had used his barely-used social media to set a trap. And he'd fallen right into it over a girl.