On My Own (13 page)

Well, I decided it couldn't hurt to call Rachel. I know she and Liz aren't talking these days, but she might have
some idea about what's going on. Or maybe she'd tell me not to worry, that Liz is a big girl, and I'd just go back to my homework and try to forget about it.

“I haven't seen her either,” said Rachel. “Of course, that's no surprise.”

“Do you think I should be concerned?”

“Well, it probably wouldn't hurt to give her parents a call. And they're really nice people. I'm sure they won't mind a phone call.”

“But what if Liz is there? She'll probably be furious with me for checking on her.”

Rachel laughed. “Well, that's her problem, isn't it?”

“I suppose.”

So I took down the number from Rachel, then went ahead and phoned Liz's parents. But here's what's got me really worried now. Liz never even went home for Thanksgiving.

“We were terribly disappointed,” said Mrs. Banks. “But she said she had other plans with her friends.”

Friends? Who could that possibly be? As far as I knew, Liz didn't have any friends. I cleared my throat. “Well, she hasn't come back to school yet–at least not to our room. And I was a little concerned, especially since this is getting close to finals week and all.”

“Oh, dear. Do you think there's been a problem?”

“I …uh …I don't know.”

“Well, has Elizabeth ever disappeared like this before?”

Now I didn't know exactly what to say. I mean, Liz
had sometimes spent the night with Jordan, but that surely couldn't be the case now. “Uh, I don't really know Liz that well,” I told Mrs. Banks.

“But aren't you her roommate?”

“Well, yes. But we're …uh …not very close.”

“Oh, I see.” Her voice sounded more formal, as if maybe I'd offended her.

“It's not that I don't like Liz,” I tried. “It's just we don't have much in common. I'm pretty involved with church and–”

“Are you a Christian?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, thank God! I'd been praying that God would send someone to help my poor Elizabeth.”

I felt like groaning but controlled myself. “Well, maybe that's what God did. But frankly I'm worried about your daughter, Mrs. Banks–”

“Call me Susan.”

“Okay. But, really, I'm concerned for Liz. I think she's been pretty down during the last few weeks. She broke up with her boyfriend–”

“Jordan?”

“Yes. And she and Rachel aren't getting along and …” I couldn't think of anything else to say that wouldn't be too upsetting for her mom to hear.

“Well, dear, I really appreciate that you called me.” I could hear a tremor of fear, or perhaps it was tears, in her voice now. “But I don't really see that there's anything you can do about this right now. Elizabeth's father
and I will begin calling around immediately. We'll see what needs to be done to find her.”

“Thank you. I'm so sorry to have to tell–”

“No, please don't apologize. I appreciate your concern. If Elizabeth's having any kind of trouble, I want to know about it.”

“I'll be praying for her.”

“You don't know how much that means to me–” she choked slightly– “to …to know that Elizabeth's been sharing her room with a …a nice Christian girl.”

“I hope she's okay.”

“Yes, we'll let you know as soon as we hear anything.”

“Same here.”

And so here I sit, wondering where in the world Liz is right now.
Is
she okay? I already called Kim and Lindsey to ask them to pray for her and be on the lookout, as well as to let other students know–in case anyone has seen her anywhere on campus. I also put the word out (through e-mail) for everyone I know to be praying for her. First of all, for her physical safety, and second for her spiritual well-being. I know that I, for one, will be praying myself to sleep tonight.

I can barely stand to think how totally horrible I'll feel if anything has happened to her. I mean, I know it's not my fault, but already I'm loaded with feelings of guilt. Like what if I'd only been kinder to her? Or what if I'd done this or that? Or really encouraged her to come home with me for Thanksgiving? Poor Liz. I feel like such a failure as a roommate–not to mention as a Christian.

Still no sign of Liz.
And despite Kim's little lecture to me today (about how it's not really my fault), I still feel partially responsible. Not only that, but it's been nearly impossible to concentrate on my studies. Liz's parents are here now; they arrived this afternoon and are staying in a hotel downtown. Mrs. Banks (Susan) stopped by my room earlier this evening, and I told her everything I knew that might be of help (which was very little). They've already filed a missing person report on her, and it's possible that the police will have to search our room.

“I just talked to Rachel and Jordan,” said Susan. “And they really didn't know anything. It seems Elizabeth has very few friends. Frank's driving around campus right now. I don't know what good it'll do, but it makes my husband feel better–like he's doing something.”

“I feel so awful about this.”

“The police keep assuring us that it's probably nothing, that college kids often take off without telling anyone–”

“And Liz is really independent,” I assured her. “It wouldn't be like her to leave a note if she'd gone somewhere.” Still, I felt worried.

Susan had tears in her eyes. “I don't know where we went wrong with her. She's probably already told you she grew up in a Christian home. But for some reason she just threw it all aside in high school. It's as if she became a totally different person–almost overnight. Her father and I have been so worried for her. But then she seemed to straighten out a little, and we were so pleased when she decided to go to college. She's very intelligent, you know.”

“I know. She hasn't told me much about her past, but I sensed there had been problems.” Suddenly I felt bad, like perhaps Susan thought I was suggesting that Liz's problems were family-related. “But you seem like such a nice person,” I said quickly. “I can't imagine her problems were at home.”

“Oh, I don't know. She became very hostile toward us during high school. We didn't have a happy home life those last couple years. Elizabeth is the youngest of our three children. Her brothers have turned out just fine.” Susan twisted the strap of her purse. “I don't know what happened to make her this way. I keep praying that she'll return to God.”

“So she was actually a Christian?”

“Oh, yes, she was a strong Christian, a leader among her youth group even. We never had a bit of trouble with her until high school. We thought maybe it was the school's influence, so we had her moved to a private Christian school, but things only got worse there. Within a month she was kicked out and had to return to her old school. That's about the time she and Rachel became friends. For a while I assumed that it was Rachel who was leading her astray. I don't know for sure anymore.”

I was so stunned to think that Liz had been not only a Christian, but a strong Christian, that I found myself literally speechless.

“Oh, dear,” said Susan. “I don't mean to make it sound like she was such a bad girl. I think she was just lost. She really has a very sweet spirit and a tender heart too.”

I tried not to register the surprise I felt at this statement. After all, who knows what may have happened to Liz? How could I question her mother's image of her daughter right now when we're all feeling so worried and desperate? Besides, may be that was the part of Liz that she kept hidden beneath her hardened exterior. “I've told everyone I know on campus that she's missing. Just in case anyone knows anything,” I said weakly.

“Tomorrow we'll check with her teachers and classes to see if they might have any clues or be aware of any relationships that Elizabeth had that could be of help. I should probably call Frank to take me back to the hotel
now.” She looked longingly at Liz's side of the room. “The police said not to touch or disturb any of her things. But do you happen to notice anything out of place or irregular? Does it look as if she took anything with her?”

“Well, I don't see her favorite leather jacket.” I glanced around. “And I don't see her backpack anywhere, so I suppose she's got those with her.”

“Does she usually take her backpack everywhere?” Susan looked hopeful. “Or do you think she might have packed some things in it, perhaps like an overnight bag?”

“Well, I think she usually takes it to class. But it's possible she could've used it as an overnight bag too. I know I do that sometimes. It's not such an unusual thing to do.”

Susan looked hopeful “So it's possible she's just taken off with some friends then …”

I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Sure.” But I think we were both thinking this sounded slightly doubtful. Still, we needed something to cling to.

After Susan left, I got down on my knees and really prayed once again that God would protect Liz and bring her safely back. Then I tried to study, but it's no use. I'm so distracted by what may or may not have happened to Liz that I'm starting to feel slightly freaked out. Add to that the idea of the police coming here to search our room! To search for what? Do they suspect foul play or think perhaps Liz was kidnapped? And if she was, did the perpetrator break into this room? It doesn't look like anything out of the ordinary happened in here, but then you never know. And suddenly I can't stand to be in this room
by myself for another minute. I'm going to call Kim and Lindsey right now and see if I can sleep on their floor tonight. Oh, my!

Well, I know I should be relieved, and I am–I really am–but at the same time I feel slightly furious.
Liz is back.
Since I'd planned to stay with Kim and Lindsey a few more days, until we figured out what had happened to Liz, I stopped by our room to pick up a few more things. And there she was sitting on her bed like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Liz!” I shouted after recovering from the shock of opening the door to find someone in my room.

She looked up. “Yeah?”

“You're back; you're here. What happened to you? I mean, are you okay?”

“Well, other than getting pulled out of my psych class this morning–by the campus police, which was slightly embarrassing–I'm perfectly fine.” She scowled at me. “What do you think you're doing, Caitlin? Calling in my parents and the police and God knows who–”

“I
didn't
call the police.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you called my parents, didn't you?” Her voice was getting louder now.

“Yes, but I was worried. No one knew where you were and I–”

“I told you from the very beginning that I didn't want
you checking up on me! I don't need a baby-sitter!”

“I'm sorry. But what if something had happened–”

“What if? There wouldn't be much you could do about it now, would there?”

“But your parents–”

“My parents got totally freaked by your snoopy little interference. Thanks a lot!”

“Well, I'm sorry you're upset, but you might stop to think how this could upset others too. I've been barely able to concentrate on my classes this week, imagining you dead and buried out in the woods somewhere. I've been sleeping on my friends' floor and–”

“Hey, it's not my fault you got all freaked over nothing.”

Right then I honestly didn't care if she totally disappeared from my life and I never saw her again. To think she could put us through all this torment, and then not even care that we were worried– I turned around and slammed my books onto my desk, grabbed a couple of things, and stormed out. I'm in the coffee shop now, but I plan to go ahead and spend the night with Kim and Lindsey again. I just needed to cool off a little first. I am
so
angry with Liz right now that I don't feel like a very good Christian. And I sure don't want to be around anyone until I get my feelings under control.

I ran into Liz's parents as I exited the dorm. I tried to conceal my rage from them, but I have a feeling they saw right through me. Susan introduced me to Frank. Like her, he seemed like a nice guy, mild mannered and
sweet. And I could tell he'd been worried about his daughter, although I think he seemed slightly irritated too. “I'm so glad she's okay,” he said. “But I wish she was better about communicating with people.”

I shrugged. “She likes being independent.”

“Well, anyway, we're so relieved,” said Susan, grabbing my hand in hers. “And I want to thank you for your help, dear. I know how worried you must've been. I so appreciate your prayers and everything.”

“Yeah.” I shoved my hands into my pockets.

“We're taking Elizabeth to dinner,” said Frank. “Would you like to join us, Caitlin?”

“No, thank you.” I made sure I didn't say that as emphatically as I felt. NO, THANK YOU! “I've already got other plans.” Yeah, plans to go fume and release some steam until I'm ready for some actual social interaction.

“Well, thank you again,” said Susan, her eyes still laced with worry. “And feel free to contact us again–anytime you feel any need for concern. We know that she's an independent girl, but we still want to know what's going on.”

“That's right,” agreed Frank. “Anytime you notice anything out of the ordinary, you just give us a call.”

“Yes, and call collect,” added Susan.

“Sure,” I lied. And I felt bad for lying, but at the same time I knew I wouldn't be so quick to call them again, certainly not after Liz's hostile reaction tonight. No, right now, I feel like the sooner I can get away from that girl, the better off I'll be. To think I wasted an
important week–just before finals–worrying about that selfish, spiteful, malicious, mean-spirited girl! And, Liz, if you somehow got your hands on my diary and are reading it again–well, you can just be sure that I mean every word of it! And then some. Sheesh, sometimes I wish I could cuss!