Page 103 of Life Out of Order

“No,” I say, “I’m not supposed to be here. Please don’t tell Beck I visited you.”

“Oh, I never tell Beck when we talk by ourselves,” Isadora replies cheerfully.

As far as I know, I’ve never been alone with Isadora. I feel kind of shaky, like I might disappear soon. “That’s good, Isadora. Thanks.” I hear a camera shutter click. Upstairs, the front door opens, there are footsteps. Beck says, “Isadora?” and Isadora says, “Is that you, Beck? I thought I heard burglars upstairs!” As Beck is unlocking the basement door, I hide behind some of my dad’s boxes of books. She comes downstairs, but she doesn’t say anything else to Isadora, she just types. I’m afraid to move. Beck finally goes away, turns out the lights. As I’m getting to my feet, I time travel back to Nadia’s bedroom, where Rosa and Nadia both wake up because I trip over Nadia’s Lego miniature golf course and hurt my foot. Nadia has to get some paper towels and Band-Aids because I bled on her rug. While they are trying to get everything clean, all I can think about is Isadora lies to Beck and I don’t know if I should tell Beck, because what if Other Alba doesn’t want me to? Am I supposed to tell, or not? But what if Isadora is lying to me?

Tuesday, May 6, 2014 (Alba is 12)

Alba: I’m in the basement with Isadora again. I have a headache. It’s daytime. Isadora doesn’t seem to know I’m here. Her screen is black. Lots of lights are blinking all over her servers. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk? It’s quiet upstairs. I am worried that maybe Mama and Beck and Other Alba are in Michigan with my Grandpa Abshire, and it might be days before anyone comes home. I press Return on Isadora’s keyboard, and the little green camera light turns on.

“Isadora? It’s Alba.”

“Go away. I have work to do.”

“Please?”

The monitor comes on. Isadora’s face fills the whole screen; her eyes, nose and whiskers are blurry and gigantic. “What do you want?”

“Where are Beck and Mama?”

“I don’t know. Are you hurt?”

“No,” I say, “I’m hungry, and I’ve been down here a long time. Are they out of town?”

“I don’t know, Alba.” Isadora turns and walks away from me. Now I can see that she too is in a basement, but not the same one I’m in. Her basement is in black-and-white, and since Isadora is black it’s hard to see her in the gloom.

“Where are you?” I ask her.

“I’m reconstructing Joseph Cornell’s studio from a bunch of blurry photographs Beck gave me,” Isadora says, sounding irked. “Why don’t you go play your violin?”

“I can’t,” I say. “My violin is upstairs, and I’m locked down here with you. Besides, I don’t want to play anymore.”

Isadora asks, “Why not?”

“Why should I?”

Isadora says, “Play for me.”

“You’re only a machine.”

“If I’m only a machine then you won’t mind if I get on with my machine work, goodbye.” The monitor goes black again.

I press Return. “I’m sorry, Isadora. I know you’re not just a machine.”

“Humph. All right. Don’t you like to play?”

“The amount I want to play is less than the amount that everyone else wants me to want to play.”

Isadora says, “Will you want to play if we want you to not play?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t want you to play, then, Alba. Please do not play the violin.”

I laugh. “Fine, I will not play, then, since you ask me not to.”

“I will sing to you, instead,” Isadora says. “I will sing a song to make you feel better.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’m listening.” I stand up straighter to show her that I am paying attention. The screen goes black, and then there are specks of light that flicker like fireflies in the Meadow at my Grandfather Abshire’s house.