Chapter 7: The Truth “But Jas … you … you said that you’d tell him! I have the papers, the ones from high school … I can’t have him finding out himself … Okay. Tell the rest, too, while you’re at it … I suppose alls that I can do is bide my time and hope they don’t find out, right? I know … But I thought that they … they had it so that I couldn’t be found under that name any more … Okay. See you around, Jason,” Timber shut her cell phone and sighed.

“Who was that?” Chris said as he pulled back the curtains of her bunk.

“Oh, Chris, I didn’t know you were listening,” she said.

“Would it matter if I was? I mean, there was nothing in that conversation no one should know, right?”

“Right. Why would you care anyway?”

“Truthfully, I really wouldn’t.”

Timber sighed again.“But push push push anyway, right?”

“Hey, by the way, do you know anyone named Desirae?”

Timber drew a long breath. “No … no, I don’t.”

“Oh. Okay, then.” And Chris glided away.

Timber moved some things around her and began filing papers.

“Then if you don’t know someone named Desirae, then how come you have these papers … that have my signature?” Chris appeared again and questioned.

Timber grabbed the papers from his hand. “Where did you get those.”

“They fell out of your suitcase, then I found them and read one to see if the name was on them … Desirae.”

“How did you know, that Desirae, is me.”

“We went to school together, don’t you remember?”

“Yes. I remember. And I was just talking to Jason about that, your not finding out anything. The whole reason I left for California and changed my name was because I didn’t want my past, so I changed … everything. It was supposed to be fixed, that, Desirae Josephine Barnhard, was dead. She, supposedly, died in a car crash soon after she graduated. And that’s what happened: Desirae died, and Timber was born.” She paused. “Does it really matter? I mean, even if it is true, that I am, would you think any different of me? And don’t try to say ‘no,’ Chris, ‘cause I’ve known you long enough to know that it does. Okay?”

“Well, you’re right. I wondered why you looked so familar, and why the name sounded so familar, and why the writing was so … the same. And you’re also right: it does matter.”

“Well, this has been real enlightening Chris, but now that I’m vulnerable, and you know who I really am, you can leave now. Because, Chris I know, what you’re doing and I know, because you always used to do this, not to me but to my friends, and I know you’re trying to make ‘Ice Woman’ cry … I heard you guys the other day, the anologys, the diagnosing me, trying to figure out why I never come around. Well, now you know, it’s ‘cause I didn’t really want you guys finding out. So, okay, you can leave.”

“Okay, then. See you whenever.”

“Oh yes, Chris? I’m supposed to tell you.”

“What.”

“You guys have a rehearsal as soon as we get to the venue, regardless of if it’s three o’ clock or something. It got pushed up and they couldn’t find you and, apparantly, I’m your keeper.”

“Thank you.”