Page 57 of Little Stolen Memories

“What phone calls?” Marcus asked.

Xander buried his head in his hands.

For such a strong, brawny man, he appeared fragile and weak to me now, much more like the boy Cora had described.

Frustrated, Marcus pressed his brother for information, saying, “What phone calls?”

Xander lowered his voice. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say something,” Marcus said, arms splayed. “Because right now, I don’t understand any of it.”

“I’m not in the right frame of mind to have this conversation,” Xander said. “I’m going through a lot right now. I don’t want to drag my past into it, all right? I can’t. I just … I can’t.”

Marcus faced me and said, “You can. Can’t you?”

I supposed most people in my current predicament would have felt awkward to be put into a position like the one Marcus had just put me in. But since Xander remained quiet and hadn’t piped up with an objection about me filling in the gaps, I decided to accommodate his brother’s request.

“In Xander’s senior year of high school, some of his female classmates started receiving prank phone calls,” I said. “The male who made the calls waited for the girls to answer, and then he breathed heavily into the phone while saying the girls’ names.”

“That’s it? No threats or anything?”

“Not as far as I know.”

“Why do you assume my brother is to blame?”

“During one of the calls, he played a word game with the young woman on the other end of the line. She believed the caller gave her a scrambled version of his name, which turned out to be Xander.”

“Did Xander ever admit to making the calls?”

“No,” I said. “Not to my knowledge.”

“Unless he comes right out and says he did it, I’d bet he didn’t. Seems to me the word game was just another way for the school bullies to blame one more thing on my brother.”

“Given we’re sitting here with your brother, it seems like an easy thing to clear up, wouldn’t you say?”

We turned our attention to Xander, and I said, “If you made those calls, now’s the time to set the record straight.”

Xander remained quiet.

I figured he wasn’t going to speak on the matter, but then he looked up, his tear-filled eyes full of remorse, and said, “I never meant to hurt anyone.”

“You never meant to hurt anyone,” Marcus repeated. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying … it was me. I did it. I made those calls.”

Marcus shot out of his chair, pacing the room as he chastised his brother. “Why in the world would you do such a thing?”

“I … I don’t know. I was bored, and I liked hearing the sound of their voices. I liked knowing they were giving their attention to me.”

“They weren’t giving their attention to you,” Marcus said. “Not willingly. They were scared.”

Xander shrugged. “I made a mistake.”

Marcus shook his head, looking over at me and saying, “I’m sorry. I think it’s best if you go now. I need to speak to my brother in private.”

I respected Marcus’s position, but I had more questions—questions it seemed I wasn’t getting answered today.

Marcus walked me out of the room, his expression one of dismay and confusion.

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