Chase & Charli

The video message ends, and I sit in my car dumbstruck. I found her last words of "no matter what" to be mildly disturbing. I'm probably reading more into my sister's final statement than she meant to put there, but I can't help it.

I can't believe what happened between us last night hit her this way. I was feeling pretty vulnerable, and I'm guessing my sister was too. We both wanted to be close again, like when we were younger, and in our inebriated state that's how our emotions manifested themselves. It was only a silly, drunken mistake.

It was just a mistake, right?

I ask myself that question over and over as I sit here, hoping my brain will answer yes, but what keeps coming back isn't a yes. In the stark light of day, even with my head throbbing painfully and my guts churning, I keep thinking "maybe not".

Either way I need to talk to my sister. I dial her number, expecting it to ring. What I get instead is "the person you are trying to reach is unavailable blah blah blah". She has her phone off. I wait until the beep and leave a message.

"I love you Charli, call me. Let's talk."

Little did I know my sister was about to disappear from my life.

* * * * * *

I start to get worried after the first few days of no answer to my phone calls or texts. I hesitate to bring it up to my parents, though. Maybe I should have. Maybe things would have been different if I'd raised a fuss right away.

It's not unusual for Charli to drop off our "family grid" for a week or more at a time. I go back to my regularly scheduled life as if nothing is wrong, even though I have a gnawing feeling in my gut. At week two of Charli's disappearance I finally bring up her conspicuous absence with my folks. At this point they're also becoming worried about their daughter's well-being.

We go to the police and file a missing person's report. Mom and dad don't leave it at that, also hiring a PI to track down their errant child. At a month with few leads and still no contact we're all stricken with the cold possibility that something terrible may have befallen Charli.

At month two, with any and all leads to my sister's whereabouts drying up, we're left only with questions. Horrible, shitty, self-recriminating questions. Myself and my parents each feel we're somehow responsible for Charli's fate, whatever that might be. I feel terrible that I can't let them know it's all my fault and they had nothing to do with it.

Month five comes and goes, and I realize the worst part is not knowing. Is she alive? Is she dead? I keep going through the motions of life, doing well in my college classes despite everything, but it all feels so empty, so hollow without my sister here. After all this time our minor indiscretion seems so insignificant against the enormity of Charli's disappearing act.

Where are you Charli? Why did you run? What scared you so badly you couldn't even talk to me?

I keep that last video my sister sent me. I watch it almost nightly, usually before I go to bed. Sometimes I watch it all the way through, more often than not wanting to cry myself to sleep. Sometimes I do cry myself to sleep. Other times I pause the video right at the beginning when Charli has that sad little smile on her face. I'll stare at her smile for a long time and ponder what her life might be like now. I ponder what my life would be like had she never disappeared.

I wonder what she's doing this very moment, what she's thinking. Are you happy Charli? Did you find what you were looking for? I hope you are, and I hope you did. I simply won't accept that she's dead. I keep the conviction burning bright that my sister is alive and well somewhere and missing me as badly as I miss her.

A handful of months later and I'm beginning my final year of college, only two short semesters away from earning my Bachelor of Science degree in mechanical engineering. I'm glad I stayed in school instead of allowing myself to spiral into depression. Despite the cliché, time does not heal all wounds. That empty place in my heart is still there. I've simply become better at dealing with it. Keeping busy helps.

Partway into the year I find myself with a girlfriend. Her name is Mandy. We discover each other at a party and hit it off. It's just your average boy-meets-girl tale. Boy meets girl, asks her out, and she says yes. We get along pretty well, the sex is great, but things still fizzle out after a couple months.

I think it's mainly me. Mandy's a nice girl and quite attractive, but I...

I never feel that powerful intimacy and closeness I felt with my sister on that single, special night we shared. Maybe after all this time I'm over-romanticizing it. I try with Mandy, I really do. In the end, even after two months of us rutting like love-starved teens, I never feel that spark. I never feel that solemn, unbreakable trust I had with my sister.

I keep waiting for Mandy to pull a Penny. It's always in the back of my mind, like a monster hiding under the bed. I don't realize it until much later, but our relationship was crippled from the start. Mandy and I part on decent terms, and we both sort of move on with our lives, going our separate ways. I throw myself back into school after my failed foray into love.

Many more months pass, and soon I'll be graduating. I've done it! I'm almost ready to begin standing on my own two feet. I love my parents and appreciate everything they've done for me, but I know I'll never feel like a real man if I don't forge my own path.

My mom and dad look so proud of me at my graduation ceremony, but we three still feel that tinge of sadness that one of the seats next to them isn't occupied by Charli. I'd like to think she'd be proud of me too. I didn't finish top of my class, but number five isn't a bad spot to be sitting. Plus, with the prestigious nature of the school I attended, I feel pretty darn good about myself as I accept my diploma.

In a job field filled with experienced talent, finding a job isn't easy, but I do find one after two months of searching. It's halfway across the country, though. It's a sad yet joyous and exciting day when I'm standing near my car, the back seats and trunk packed with my most prized possessions. Mom and dad are there to bid me a fond farewell. Even Liz is there. She gives me a hug and tells me to take care of myself.

I wave goodbye to them all and drive off to begin my new life.

It's such a different world doing everything for myself. I get a tiny studio apartment at first in order to conserve the small sum of money my parents had gifted me with. I'm frugal and careful with my funds as I delve into this new realm of total independence.

I'm nervous as all hell on my first day of work. I manage to get through it without any major blunders, and things only get better from there. After a few months I start to get into the groove and begin to feel comfortable in my new skin as a self-motivated, responsible adult.

Six months into my "new" job I'm truly getting into the swing of things. I really think I'm coming into my own and proving my worth to my bosses and coworkers. I'm being assigned to bigger and better projects, and I'm starting to believe I'm on the fast track to great things with this company.

I feel pretty confident with where I am now, so I move out of my small apartment and put a down payment on a really nice house in a quiet little suburb. It's a four bedroom, two bath house with a double garage and fenced front and back yards, and it's only a twenty minute commute to work. The place is kind of big for a bachelor to be knocking around in all by his lonesome, but all the room to move around reminds me of my parents' mansion. It makes me think of Charli and what she might say about what her little brother has done with his life.

At year one I catch a lucky break and come up with a brilliant idea to jump-start a stalled project, saving the company tens of thousands in losses. My incredible creativity and grace under pressure catches the eye of a certain higher-up. She promotes me to a team leadership position, complete with pay raise, to see how I handle it.

I seize the job and run with it, making it my own. It gives me a strong sense of self-worth to take every project I handle and knock it out of the park. Through it all I remind myself that Charli wouldn't approve of me becoming an arrogant prick, so I remember to treat every team I lead as people and not tools. Much to my surprise I discover I'm kind of a good leader.

* * * * * *

Ah, Monday morning and the beginning of a new project. I always love starting new projects. Everything is exciting and a little scary, I'll admit. You never know what sort of hurdles you'll have to surmount. Plus, I get my new crew. I got the email last week stating who'd be working under me this time, and they're like the engineering dream team lineup for this company.

I walk into the clubhouse, which is the nickname for the private break room myself and my team get to enjoy during this project. I'm not surprised to see Larry is already here, black coffee in hand and a schematic unrolled on the table in front of him.

"Larissimo!" I greet him with his nickname.

"Good morning, Chase," he says with a brief smile. "You should see these..."

"Don't sully the moment, Larry," I say, holding up a hand as I begin fixing myself a cup of coffee.

He chuckles.

I always like working with Larry. He's just...solid. In his mid thirties, he's been with the company about ten years so he's plenty experienced. Larry is one of those people who's found his zen and is perfectly content being a cog in the machine. He loves his work and does his job with a happy sort of zeal, neither desiring nor accepting promotions of any kind.

Larry was one of the first people I met when I started working here, and we became friends rather quickly despite our age difference. I've spent many a night having dinner with him, his wife Lindsay, and their ten year old boy Shawn, who has taken to calling me "uncle Chase".

I take a sip of my caffeine nectar and exhale, "Ahhh!"

"Would you like some coffee with that sugar?" Larry jokes.

"No thanks. I think I poured too much coffee in it already," I reply. "So, did Shawn like the video game I got him for his birthday?"

"Ha ha! Did he ever!" Larry laughs. "Lindsay's kind of ticked at you, though. I think if Shawn asked for 'five more minutes' one more time last night she would've called you over to put him to bed."

I chuckle. I'm still young enough to remember that age clearly. Everything was so dire and immediately important. At ten years old if you didn't get to do it right away you might truly and sincerely die. Or at least that's what I used to think at ten years old.

"I'll apologize by buying her that lamb brisket she likes to cook. You guys can eat it later this week. We still on for dinner tonight?"

"Yeah," Larry nods somewhat excitedly. "Got the game going on tonight! Woot woot!"

Three things Larry loves. His family, his job, and watching baseball. In that implicit order.

"Nice," I grin, giving my friend a fist-bump. "I'll bring the beer, too."

Larry grins right back at me as we have our brotherly moment.

"You boys and your locker room chatter," Karen's voice comes from behind me. "At least you're not scratching your balls and talking about your sexual escapades."

Larry laughs, but I'd just started to take a sip of coffee when Karen uttered her ribald statement. I have to fight not to spray my mouthful of drink all over the carpet. She has a habit of timing her wry humor for when I'm drinking something. I've become certain she does it on purpose.

Karen is one of those people who can completely blow you away with her incredible intellect, despite her youth. I'm pretty sure she has an eidetic memory. She's barely older than I am, but with her on my team I never have to worry about tiny details slipping by unnoticed. She's also highly skilled, quick, and efficient in her work. I always put her on the most mentally demanding tasks.

"Morning, Karen," Larry greets.

I cough a couple times to clear my pipes and add, "How was your weekend?"

"Very weekendy," she grins. "Also fifty percent off. I came in yesterday to go over a few thing for this morning."

That's my workaholic Karen. Single and happy to be so, she likes to find any excuse to work early, stay late, or come in on the weekends. If she came in on Sunday then that means she's already memorized anything pertinent. Excellent.

Karen gets some coffee and joins Larry and I at the table. We all engage in some small talk while we await our final team member. Gabrielle ambles in a few minutes later, looking a little worse for wear. I'm guessing she partied a touch too hard last night. She makes a bee-line for the black waters of life within the coffee pot.

Thirty-two and a blond bombshell, Gabby is our division's resident primadonna. I both love and hate working with her, but mostly it's love. She's an extremely talented electrical engineer. The most talented one employed here as a matter of fact, but the size of her skill has an ego to match. I know working with Gabrielle means having to cater to her self-esteem. I always have to be ready with plenty of compliments about her work and how magnificent it is.

And it actually is magnificent 99% of the time.

It's that 1% I dread, the rare moments when she becomes a temperamental little snatch. She can be a handful to deal with and keep on task when it happens. I can only hope her hangover doesn't start the morning off with her in 1% mode. I have to take the good with the bad, though. After all, I still consider her part of my dream team.

"Good morning everyone," she greets amiably.

We all greet her in return, and I breathe a mental sigh of relief. I guess her hangover is mild, and she's ready to start her day in 99% mode. Thank god. Gabby sits, and the four of us enjoy a few minutes of fellowship while we finish our coffee. This isn't the first time the four of us have worked together, and I'm glad to see the same good rapport still exists among this team.

Before long we get down to business.

* * * * * *

Later on we break for lunch, each of us going our separate ways for about an hour. As usual, Larry brown-bags it, and the ladies head out to whatever lunch spots they choose to favor today. More often than not I'd bring a lunch like Larry does, but I was running a little behind this morning so I'm empty handed. I head to this little deli shop nearby that makes the best French-dip sandwiches.

I'm walking back into my building with food in hand, when I see the last thing I ever expected. I almost drop my little sack of food. I catch a brief glimpse of a face I always wondered if I'd ever see again. The woman is inside a crowded elevator, and people shifting around block my view of her before the doors close and the steel box starts rising.

Is my mind playing tricks on me?

Was that really Charli?

She didn't look quite as I remembered her. The image in my mind of the pretty young face with raven-black hair and frosted purple tips doesn't quite match. The girl I saw had long, brunette hair, but the pretty young face was so painfully familiar. Plus, my sister's natural hair color is brunette.

My god...was that Charli?!?

Did I finally find her after three years? In the very same place I work? Or has the specter of her loss merely chosen to migrate from my dreams into reality? Even after all the time that's passed I still have this aching hole in my heart I've never been able to fill. The most I've ever achieved is distracting myself from it with school and now my work.

I almost go running to the closed elevator. Though I feel a little crazed at the moment I manage to walk like any sane person should, but my heart pounds wildly. I watch the floor readout above the metal doors. The elevator stops, and I look over to the building's directory to confirm what I thought. It halted at floor seven, the legal department.

Then the elevator moves again, and I watch as it bounces from floor to floor. It moves up then down then back up...

If only I'd gotten here a minute sooner. If that was my sister I missed her by a handful of seconds, and now she could be virtually anywhere in this rather sizable building. I guess floor seven is as good a place as any to start looking.

Still clutching my forgotten food, I ride the next available elevator up to floor seven and step out into the bustle of people, ringing phones, and a veritable field of cubicles full of office workers. Don't these folks take a lunch? It'll be a daunting task locating one person amongst this sea of employees.

I walk up to what appears to be this floor's receptionist. She's fielding a phone call so I wait patiently until she finishes, my eyes scanning the faces I can see. The woman soon ends the call and turns to gaze up at me.

"What may I do for you?" she asks.

"I'm Chase from engineering up on floor twelve," I begin. "You wouldn't happen to have a woman working in legal named Charli Kittridge, would you?"

"I'm sorry," she shrugs. "I don't really know everyone's name, but I can't say that one sounds familiar."

"Umm...she's short, slender, long brown hair, blue eyes. Pretty."

The receptionist chuckles and responds, "You just described half the women who work in the legal department."

I blink a couple times and realize she's right. I sort of summed up the receptionist actually, although she looks like she might be on the tallish side if she stood up.

I nod in understanding. "Yeah, I guess so. Is it okay if I look around?"

"Knock yourself out," she says.

I peer down at her name placard. Huh. Interesting name.

"Thanks Caia," I smile.

"Oh my god!" she giggles. "You pronounced my name right the first time! Almost no one does. I think the "i" always throws people off."

"I guess I have the benefit of previous knowledge," I explain, pointing to her name placard. "Your full name, Caia Caecilia, was the Roman goddess of fire, healing, the hearth, and women. Cool name. It kind of caught my eye, actually."

"Okay, that's just weird you know what my name means," she says, gazing at me with a mild wonder written in her eyes. "No one has ever known that. Well, no one who isn't family."

I shrug, smile in a friendly manner, and tell her, "I read a lot. Anyway, it was nice meeting you. I'm going to go have my little gander around your controlled chaos. Take care."

"You too, Chase," she smiles, her eyes gazing at me with interest as I turn to walk away.

I search for a time, but quickly begin to feel crestfallen. My lunch hour is running out, and I have yet to find Charli. If she's even here. It's more likely my mind is playing a cruel joke on me. Plus, even if she is in the building she may not even be on this floor. Who knows? It could take hours, if not days, to walk around each floor in search of my lost sister.

I'd have more luck going to HR and asking, but it might seem a little stalkerish without explaining why I'm inquiring about someone. Companies are pretty sensitive about that kind of thing and tend to have strict policies about divulging employee information. In addition, for some reason I've never told anyone about my missing sister. I wasn't going to start with HR.

It might seem strange to hold back such a life-altering detail from the new people in my world, but I never wanted to feel like anyone befriending me did so due to pity-points.

Eventually I give up my search, realizing this was all no doubt my subconscious being a punk. I caught a flash of a woman's face who bore a passing resemblance to my sister, and my brain filled in the gaps to fool me into believing I'd seen Charli.

By the time I get back to the clubhouse I only have five minutes left to scarf down my French-dip. I barely enjoy it, and the poorly chewed food sits like a lump in my stomach for most of the afternoon.