Free Lost Past by Teresa McCullough, Zachary McCullough

me get my purse and we’ll see if we can help him.”
    Linda took Mary to John’s apartment. A couple of minutes after knocking, Mary said unnecessarily, “He’s not here.” Linda knew that because she couldn’t sense him. She knew he was fairly near, but not here.
    “You haven’t been here before?” Linda made it a question out of politeness, but Mary’s lack of knowledge of the location of the apartment told her the answer.
    “No. Why would I?”
    Linda remembered John’s deliberate silences, said nothing and remained by John’s door to make it all the more uncomfortable. It took almost a minute before Mary continued.
    “When I moved in with Arthur, I had misgivings about being a stepmother, but I was in love, really in love for the first time in my life. My first husband was,” she paused as if looking for a word, “suitable, but he divorced me when we found I couldn’t have children. Although that was a bitter disappointment to my mother, I found I was happier without children. I could do my research and didn’t have to hide my intelligence. Arthur claimed the two of you were no trouble, but Natalie did everyth ing. Y ou needed your first bra, and somehow I was expected to help you. You resented me and I didn’t want to do it, but Arthur was at his computer doing research, which I knew was more important than anything I would ever do.”
    Linda remembered the bra with embarrassment. She didn’t behave well, but at nearly thirteen with her mother’s disappearance, it wasn’t surprising. “And John came?” Linda remembered John came shortly after she got her first bra.
    “He took over. He cleaned the house.” Linda made a face and Mary corrected herself, “Well, he made you and Tom clean the house, shovel the snow, and mow the lawn. He worked with you, but three people can do things pretty fast.”
    “My mother did that.”
    “But you stopped working when I came,” Mary complained.
    Linda remembered that too. It was a mute rebellion that she never discussed with her brother. Mary wasn’t a good stepmother, but Linda didn’t make it easy.
    They went to the hospital to look for John, listening to the car radio telling of the local chaos. Reporters phoned in reports using landlines. No one could find a natural explanation, but three distinct and unrelated terrorist groups took responsibility. The government was pretty certain that none of them actually were responsible, because none of them had the power.
    They found John talking to Eric in his office while Cara slept on a chair. Cara woke up, but didn’t uncurl from her sleeping position.
    “I thought you went back to school,” John said to Linda, clearly annoyed.
    “She realized I needed some comfort,” Mary said. Was this the first time that Mary ever defended her? Probably. Linda felt they bonded more that day than in the years they lived together.
    “I wanted you to go because I was concerned about your safety,” John said.
    “Safety?” Mary asked. John succinctly recapped their day’s activities and then Mary explained their discoveries.
    “I remember Dad’s absences,” Linda said. “Mom just said he was busy. Tom had his appendix out, and she didn’t call him. When he came back, he apologized to her, but she said she understood. They didn’t know I was listening. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now I think it was odd. And you were there.” She looked at John.
    “When Arthur and your mother were talking?”
    “No. You were there every time he left. You would come and the two of you would leave.  I didn’t like you then, because you were taking my father away. He didn’t spend much time with us, ever. But Mom missed him.”
    “I was under the impression I was on good terms with you,” John said uncertainly.
    “When you moved in, yes. You took Dad’s place, in a way. And Mom’s. Even though you were in medical school, you were always there for us.”
    There was a brief silence with everyone looking at