compulsive by sophie isbister "If you could change your name to anything, what would it be?" "Marya." "That's a nice name." "You?" "I dunno." "I'd name you... Everything." What if you were to have such a diabolical personality that you actually changed your name to suit your mood? Like your name was just a different coloured blouse. Eventually you'd probably forget what your original name was. That's my biggest fear, lack of identity, identity being an important thing for me. Tanner and I were talking that Saturday. "What's the most important thing that ever happened to you?" she asked me. I didn't know what to say. I knew what I wanted to say- "meeting you." She might take that the wrong way. But then, she might flash me a lipsticky smile, and say, "You're a doll Tessy, you really are." It was always a gamble. Instead, I opened my mouth and a lie came out. A harmless lie. "... Summer camp, grade six." "Why?" In grade six, Tanner was probably sailing the seven seas. It's true that I went to summer camp the summer after grade six. It's also true that nothing of importance, or even anything remotely interesting happened there. "A girl in my cabin was raped." Another lie. I was on a roll. "I didn't know her too well," which was another lie, because I knew everything about this girl I made up. Maybe her name was Susan, and she had red hair. The redheads always get raped in the movies. Smiles knowingly. Or maybe that's a little creepy? In any case, they called her Susie. We were okay friends for the first day. Susie and Tessy. She was my partner for rafting, which is what I would say if I hadn't already said I didn't know her well. "... She was nice though, from what I knew. I was there when it happened." I looked at my hands. So did Tanner. "Why was it really important?" I was wringing my hands now. Tanner mistook my insecurity, my nerves, my suffocating guilt for some sort of depression over a past I had no control over. When really I had a lot of control over it- I made it. She reached over and held my hands. I jerked away. We didn't know what would happen next, me in my blanket of guilt, Tanner in a poncho of confusion. She always wore ponchos, and sequined vests. She liked to pick up key wardrobe elements at Indonesian garage sales. I tried to match her, I tried to be her. I shopped at Value Village, when I shopped, which was almost never. I cleared my throat, breaking the moment. Tanner shrugged it off. "Tess, it's okay if you don't want to talk about it." She walked to the wall, near the fireplace, and looked at the pictures lined up on the mantle. Tanner at last year's Spring Formal. Tanner's school picture. Tanner at my sixteenth birthday party. You wouldn't have thought it was my house, but it was. The old acid-green wallpaper, slightly cracked and warped from the leaky ceiling. This living room made me feel poor. Saturdays, rainy Saturdays, still make me feel poor. Even now, in my Ikea-showroom apartment in Downtown Vancouver, my perfect modern homage to simplicity where you would not find orange carpeting that smells like cats. No sirree. Tanner would hate my house. Tanner always liked my mantlepiece. Every time she came over, we would sit in my living room and she would wander about, lightly touching my mom's knick-knacks, and running her fingers along all the picture frames. I went to her house a couple times. It was never very memorable. Her house was sterile and meticulous, the opposite of her haphazard personality. Her family was kind of psychotic. There was a long silence, where I was lost in thought, and Tanner was lost in... something. I knew the day would probably be over soon. "Do you want some hot chocolate?" I asked. She followed me into the kitchen without a word. Cracked linoleum floors. Nobody else was home, the way I liked it. Don't get me wrong, I love my family. I just loved Tanner more. I busied myself turning on the milk steamer, pouring milk into a pan, and scooping hot chocolate powder into cups. My favourite cup, plain black coffee mug. Tanner's favourite cup, an old cracked soup mug, printed with a recipe for tomato soup. There was a chip in the handle. "So," I began with a nervous word. "What was the most important moment of your life?" Tanner was still standing. I think she was caught off guard by my pervious behaviour. "Oh." She looked around the room, no doubt hoping my homey kitchen would help her think. She must have came up with a good answer- her cherry red lips parted, her eyes doing the trademark twitch they always do when she's about to say something clever and mind-blowing. Which, to me, is always. "Right now." "Right now?" I was dumbstruck. What was that supposed to mean? "Right now." Well. Exactly that. "Whichever moment I'm in, whatever second is happening, is the most important thing. At the time." Good answer. "Good answer." There was more silence. This has always been a trend with us. There's always a moment hanging, suspended, waiting for one of us to act on it. Sometimes we do, sometimes we don't. That day, I squirted hot milk on my hands. "Shit!" Tanner jumped up. "My God, are you okay Tess?" "Yeah." "Run it under cold water." So I did. And she left. And that was the end of that day. *** It was time for school, about a month later. Maybe a Monday, but that's irrelevant. What is important is the way I felt- giddy, expectant. I wasn't sure what I was expecting. Maybe it had to do with the weather, crisp and sunny, or my Bio final which I was positive I would ace. The Bio final I ended up failing. I arrived at school, set to start my first class with Tanner. Drama. The highlight of my morning. When she didn't arrive, I sighed and rolled my eyes. She's probably sitting in the parking lot, with boyfriend of the week, her feet up on the dashboard. Sipping from her flask and whispering sweet everything's into his ear. In between scenes, I looked over my Biology notes. We had the same lunch block. She wasn't there to meet me in the lunchline like she usually was, bright and happy for another day. I paced the halls for an hour, searching, searching, and then I gave up. My last class of the day was Bio, which I also had with her. She wasn't there. I failed that test, and walked to my house alone. That night, I got the phone call. "Excuse me, could I please talk to a Tessa Chase?" "This is she." While flipping a fried egg. Absently preparing it the way Tanner likes it. "We'd like to ask you a few questions." Not good. I dropped the pan on the burner. "Who is this?" "Thornhill police department. We believe you may know something about the disappearance of Tanya McBride." Tanner. I almost had a heart attack. "Miss Chase? Are you still there?" I picked up the phone from where I had dropped it. "What?" "Are you alright?" "Yes." "When was the last time you saw Miss McBride?" I paused to get my bearing. My hand was shaking, and the phone tapped against my head as I tried to keep it steady. "Yesterday, at... at six PM. She left my house, to go home. She took her car. A- a...." I searched my mind for Tanner's car model, but it was escaping me. "A baby blue ‘68 Volkswagen?" "Yes." "We already know all this." "Sorry I couldn't help. You'll keep me posted, wont you?" "Of course miss. Thank you." Click. I dropped the phone to the floor, and hurried to the door. As I stepped out the door, pulling my coat around me, I could hear the smoke detector going off in the kitchen. It didn't matter. I don't know what came over me, but I guess I thought I could find Tanner myself. And I did. I ran to the park we used to hang out in. It was far away, and the cold March air felt like water as I sucked it into my burning lungs. I stopped to catch my breath on the outskirts of the park, and then started walking slowly down the path. I followed it until I came to a stream, and then I followed that. It opened up into a small, man made lake that Tanner and I always used to go to. That Tanner loved more than anything- more than her family, more than my living room. She said it always made her feel at peace. That's how I came upon her, peacefully sitting in a tree, her eyes reflecting moonlight. "Tanner?" I walked closer. She acknowledged me with a nod. "They're all looking for you." "I know." Her voice was low. I knew then, that something was horribly wrong. Tanner wasn't wearing shoes, or a sweater. She was sitting on her hands, and she was ghostly pale. I walked close to the tree she was sitting in, until I was about three feet away from the trunk. I remember this vividly. I looked up at her, closely. "What's wrong?" She turned her face to me and smiled. "You're a doll Tessy, you really are. To come here, and find me. Nobody else would have." She tipped herself forward, and grabbed hold of the branch she was sitting on. This is exposed her wrists to my sight. They were slit up to her elbows, deeply as well. "Don't tell them this is how I died, Tessy." She looked at me, a plea in her gaze. I nodded slowly, and watched helplessly as she let go of the branch and tipped into the icy water. Before that moment, I had always been the powerless one. Tanner formed her mouth in a kiss face, her lips still clad in that vivacious shade of red. That's how I'll always remember her- the face of an almost dead girl, air-kissing me goodbye. I waved, and mouthed, "I love you." I wonder now, sometimes, when I'm alone and drinking in my empty life, if maybe she would have changed her mind. If I could have talked her out of it. I don't think so though, even at the end she had all the power. She would never have succeeded in the real world anyway. *** Three weeks later, I was sitting in the questioning office. Tanya McBride's mother obviously cared more than she had shown in Tanner's life, because she had spared no expense to prolong the case as long as possible. They'd found the body, but the last few people to see Tanner had disagreed with the suicide story. Some people were talking murder. This was good news for Mrs. McBride- a suicide in the family was never good in the humble town of Thornhill. I had been questioned a number of times. I always opened my mouth, and a lie came out. When the case was settled, a month or so later, it was widely known that sweet Tanya McBride was framed for the sick crime of suicide. At 10 PM on March 3rd, 1982, she left her house to pick up some milk from the grocery store. This is the part that was true. She drove by the lake, where her car was allegedly stopped, and three masked men dragged her out. They stripped her of her shoes and coat, and slit her arms. They tossed her into the lake. The culprits were never found. Of course, nobody will find the culprit. I'm the only one who knows her true story, and to prove it would be impossible. The culprit is sleeping forever at the bottom of a big, deep hole in Thornhill United Cemetery.