Chapter One

Three weeks prior:

“Hurry up and take the damn picture!” Rod Maxwell groaned through gritted teeth that were supposed to be a big smile.

“It has to be perfect!” Sprite, his twin sister, complained. “This is for Dad, and we have to show as much of our graduation gowns as possible. Which is impossible because you are a full foot taller than I am. Scrunch down.”

“Oh, let me do it,” Rod said, grabbing for the selfie stick.

Sprite yanked it away from him. “No, you’ll cut me off at the bottom of my cap.

“Why don’t you just let me take my own picture,” a gravelly male voice said from behind them.

“Dad!” they shouted in unison. Rod whirled around, then he and his twin sister flung their arms around the man in the grey off-the-rack suit, white shirt open at the collar and no tie. They were careful not to dislodge his carefully angled black leather, broad-brim hat and pandemic mask. Strangers tended to only see his ordinary wardrobe and dismissed Bryce Maxwell, if they noticed him at all. Few looked close enough to notice the stretched, too smooth skin grafts that marred the left side of his face.

The shadows cast by his hat and the mask obscured most of the ugly details.

“You came!” Sprite sobbed with happiness. “I told you not to bother. This ceremony is just one more hurdle to get over so we can get on with the rest of our lives. And Senator Desdaganet’s speech went on forever and said nothing interesting. But I’m ever so glad you did come.”

“I couldn’t desert you two on a day as important as high school graduation. And yes, the senator is a bore.”

“He did say some creepy things about us grads, who are now adults, being constantly vigilant against the enemies who walk among us, trying to subvert our wonderful government.” Rod shook his head in disapproval. “More likely he and his friends in the military-industrial complex are the enemies of the people.”

Sprite shivered in the June heat. Something about the guest speakers…

She checked all around to see who might be watching them, before speaking. She didn’t like the senator who’d been in office too long but couldn’t be ousted.

“We’re safe, Aphrodite Sarsaparilla,” Rod whispered. He knew she’d stick her tongue out at him for daring to use her real name. Their biological mother had given them both hideous names and made it a condition of adoption that they not legally change them.

They’d turned eighteen last March and could cast off this last remnant of Jacquie Johnstone in their lives.

“Safety is ephemeral. For now, everyone’s too consumed with their own families to notice ours, Android Spartacus.” Sprite retaliated. Then she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Careful, I might steal that.” Bryce Maxwell made a pretense at grabbing her tongue with gloved fingers, his own playful way of trying to curb her bad habit. Mostly he’d cured her.

But there were times Rod couldn’t resist taunting her.

“Are you okay, Dad?” Sprite asked, changing the subject.

“Yes, I am. Now stand back and let me take about a hundred of my own photos.” Bryce crouched a little to get them both in the shot from his own phone.

Rod stopped teasing and pulled his sister close. He bent his head so that the corner of his mortarboard touched the top of Sprite’s. His dad touched the screen of his phone about a dozen times before gesturing them to change poses.

The twins each held up their right hands, thumbs up. Their moss-green eyes sparkled with joy. “See, Dad, we made it, all the way through, just like we promised. Now you have to keep your promise,” Sprite said.

Rod nodded his agreement.

“Okay, okay, in a couple of weeks we drive to the coast for BeachCon—newly returned and improved with post pandemic protocols in place. I knew you two would squeak through high school, pass all your exams, and write all your papers in time to graduate.”

“Does that mean you already bought our memberships and reserved a room?”

“You mean you don’t want to camp on the beach?”

Rod’s heart beat a little faster in eagerness. “Can we?”

“Ewwww. Dad, we haven’t had to camp out since we were five!” Sprite grimaced. “Though I do love the bonfire on the beach Friday nights.” She hugged herself with a dreamy smile on her face. “Patrick said he’d drive down from Seattle to join us.”

“You mean that using the cool evening air as an excuse to snuggle with Patrick is what you love about the bonfire.” Rod had seen them share their first kiss by the fire three years ago.

“And you with Liz.” For once Sprite didn’t stick her tongue out at her brother. Romantic relationships were too new to both of them for either to fall into teasing mode. He had some great memories of his first kisses too.

He wished that Liz could have come to this graduation to witness his greatest success so far. His chest swelled a bit. He’d finally graduated, despite his mediocre grades, and he wanted to share it with his girlfriend. But she had her own commencement to attend today, in Cave Junction, hours south of here.

But Cave Junction meant Liz and her mom lived almost local to BeachCon.

“Dad, are you well enough to camp?” Rod asked.

“On the beach where I can breathe clean, moist air, yes. But I’m not going to risk it yet. I made the hotel reservations. I even sent my costume to the dry cleaner.” He straightened up slowly.

Rod reached a hand to balance his father. He didn’t have his cane with him today.

“I’m okay,” Bryce said, shaking his head at the offered help. He gathered the twins into another brief hug and aimed them toward an exit. “I think we’ll grill some steaks tonight out by the pool. I found some first of the season corn at the market earlier. But first, my little Sprite, there are ice packs in the cooler in the back of the rig.”

Both Rod and Sprite covered their chins with a hand. Rod’s scale didn’t itch. He could barely feel the difference in texture from his regular five o’clock shadow. Sprite on the other hand looked as if she had a glowing red rectangle of a pimple about to explode. The afternoon early-June heat and excitement had stressed her control.

“I’m okay,” Rod whispered. “Where’s the car? I’ll bring it around.”

His father looked down at his left leg and tested his weight on it. “You’re moving faster than I am these days.” He patted all of his pockets, jacket and trousers.

Sprite intervened and pulled the keys out of his front left pants pocket and tossed them to Rod. “We’ll wait in the shade of that oak.” She pointed toward an elderly giant of a tree across the drive, rooted in an island between parking lanes. Its shade offered the most sought-after parking places in the acres of pavement around the college gymnasium that had hosted the commencement exercises.

The good parking spots, including the handicapped spaces, were full when Bryce had dropped the twins off several hours ago. More so when he returned just in time to hear the opening strains of Pomp and Circumstance and watch Senator Desdaganet lead the procession of graduating seniors as if the music had been composed just for his own inflated ego.