Twin Twist

Lena’s story

Caleb? His brother? Who?

I drove out to the abandoned wrestling ring few blocks away from the abandoned hospital, like Morris had asked. The roads were completely empty at that hour.

The old wrestling ring was just sitting there, a few feet away from where I parked my car, a total wreck. It looked haunted. The walls were covered in spray paint, all the windows were smashed, and the front door was hanging off by only one hinge. The air was gross; a mix of metal, dust, and old beer. I remembered when I was a teen, I would run past this place after long work hours on my way home, my shoes in my hand as I desperately prayed to anyone who cared to listen to get me home safe, sound and away from the eyes of Caleb’s father, Caleb or his men.

I pulled my jacket tighter and started walking closer to the entrance

. It felt weird being there, but I knew why I came. For answers. Good or bad, I needed them. Even with all the memories this place brought back.

Good or bad! Mostly bad.

“Mom’s house is just a few blocks away,” my brain reminded me, but I pushed the thought out of my head.

Detective Morris was already there, waiting for me. He was leaning against his car which he parked very close to the ring’s entrance, with his hands in his pockets. He looked even more tired now than a few hours before. The shadows were darker under his eyes and his eyebags more prominent.

“You came,” he said as I walked up. “Alone?”

“I didn’t have much choice, did I?” I said. “Who could I dragged out at this hour, to a place the police labeled as off limits.”

He almost smiled, but then didn’t. He told me to follow him and lowered his voice. “Let’s go inside. I want to show you something.”

The air was damp inside, and our shoes made loud creaking noises like whispers of the past. The gym equipment was all rusted and thrown around. The wrestling ring was falling in the middle, with all the bad memories that had happened. Morris took me down a hallway to a heavy wooden door.

“This office used to be Caleb’s father’s,” he said quietly, while opening the door. “Headquarter for crimes.”

The smell was the first thing I noticed, mildew, mold, and burnt scents. The room was dark, and dust floated in front of Morris’s flashlight. Papers were all over the floor, and broken picture frames hung crooked on the walls. But my eyes were drawn to the wall.

A wall of faces. Pictures taped and pinned up, some faded, beaten by the weather or water, some stained with blood. Many had a big black X marked across them.

I froze in shock. “What is this about?”

Morris stepped closer, shining his light on the faces. “People who owed Caleb’s father money. People he worked with. The people he hurt. I’ll let you pick.”

My heart jumped when I saw one familiar face. My mother.

Her picture was hanging there with the others, but not marked with an X.

My chest tightened. “Why is she here?” I asked. “Why isn’t her picture crossed out?”

“That’s why I wanted you to come,” Morris said, while crouching down behind a piece of wall that appeared like any other rubble. But he pushed on a spot, and a small space opened up. He pulled out a small, old book.

He gave it to me. “I found it in a locker. Hidden for years in plain sight, even the police could not spot it when they tore this place down.”

The leather cover was ripped and stained, The pages were falling apart, stained with age and weather. I opened it carefully. It was full of names, dates, and random numbers. Next to each name was a note, what they owned, and something Caleb’s father could threaten them with.

I swallowed hard and kept flipping through it. My mother’s name was there. It said Debt paid completely.

The date was that night. The same night Caleb stole my innocence.

My knees gave out. I grabbed on to the desk, feeling sick, dinner rushing back up my throat . “No…”

The room started spinning. I didn't want to believe what I was reading. My mother’s IOU. My body had been the payment.

Morris broke the silence, voice even. “Now you get it.”

Tears filled my eyes, but anger pushed through them. “Was that it? You just wanted me to go through all of this again?”

“No.” He looked at me intensely. “There’s more.”

Snapping the notebook shut, I gave it back. “What? What could possibly make this any worse?”

He didn’t respond. He looked at the broken window. The night was late, I heard voices and footsteps from outside.

“Come on,” He said, “The goons and wannabe gangster still think this is their hangout spot. it's not safe, despite the police orders.”

I followed him out, feeling heavy. The air outside felt just as bad as inside. We didn’t talk until his car’s engine roared to life. It felt safe.

Morris reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded photo with frayed edges.

He gave it to me. “Look at this.”

My hands shook as I opened it up. It was a picture of four people: Caleb’s father, a woman who I guess was his wife even though her face had been ruined by constant rubbing, and two little boys around five.

It took my breath away. One of the boy’s faces was smeared with ink, to hide his face.

“What is this?” I whispered.

Morris eyed down. “That’s what I’ve been trying to solve. Caleb’s father had two sons. Caleb…and a sibling whose identity he didn’t want anyone seeing.”

My chest tightened. “Caleb had a brother?”

“Maybe.” Leaning closer urgently. “Think about it, Lena…the man you saw that night might not have been him.”

The picture shook in my hand. “What are you talking about?”

“What I”m saying is that, it could be Caleb's sibling.” Morris said sternly.