The Lifeguard

by Richie Tankersley Cusick

“Tonight. When Justin and I left.”

  “I don’t know. When you and I came down from Skip’s room, I don’t think Neale was around then.”

  “I don’t think so, either.” Kelsey’s face puckered in a deep frown, and Donna glanced at her curiously.

  “I didn’t even realize you and Justin were gone. Skip and I were fighting… Then he stormed off somewhere, and I came in here to throw things around.” She grinned sheepishly. “And the next thing I knew, Skip was out in the pool again and you and Justin and Neale were coming back.” She stopped in the middle of measuring coffee. “Kelsey, what’s wrong?”

  “Where is he…where was he when I went into the water…” Kelsey shook her head slowly, trying to clear it of Justin’s words on; the beach… “Donna…do you think Justin seems…well…afraid of Neale?”

  For a moment Donna looked perplexed “Afraid? Everyone’s a little afraid of Neale, aren’t they?” she said wryly. “Nobody gets along with him—not Skip, not the islanders, not even you!”

  “Why not the islanders?”

  “Something about him makes people uncomfortable. He isn’t one to return friendly gestures, if you know what I mean.”

  Kelsey gave a curt nod. Her nerves felt stretched to breaking, and a headache was throbbing behind her temples.

  “Where are you going? Are you okay?” Donna watched carefully as Kelsey stood up.

  “I just need a bathroom. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

  “Go upstairs. It’s a lot quieter. Third door on your left. Do you need me?”

  “No, thanks. I’m just jumpy.”

  Donna looked sympathetic. “Okay, but if you’re not down in ten minutes I’m coming to check on you.”

  Kelsey couldn’t quite manage a smile. She went unsteadily up the wide, curving staircase and found the bathroom. Locking the door, she sat down on the carpeted floor, her back against the wall, and let a horde of memories trample through her mind. She couldn’t forget what had happened tonight—the helpless panic of seeing Justin disappear, of seeing that dark shape cut through the water…that pressure of something solid and very real against her legs…and then the unbelievable relief of finding Justin alive and unharmed…when she thought she’d lost him…lost him forever…I can’t go through that again…I can’t…

  “Don’t…struggle…it’ll be easier if you don’t…”

  “Oh, Dad,” Kelsey whimpered.

  She pressed her palms flat on either side of her head, rocking slowly. Why did Justin seem so terrified of Neale? And why is Neale being so secretive about what happened? The questions pounded, making her headache worse by the second. And where did that body go? And why was I so certain that someone was in my room tonight, waiting while I waited…listening while I listened…?

  Stumbling to the window, she thrust it open and pressed her face against the screen. The air was damp and soft, and she breathed it in greedily, letting her eyes roam across the rocky coastline, the deserted beach…

  Only it wasn’t deserted.

  Kelsey felt her body go rigid as one of the rocks seemed to lurch away from the others. Long and ghostlike, it spilled out across the sand, righted itself, finally staggering out into the moonlight. It took half a second to recognize him then. Isaac.

  Totally absorbed, Kelsey watched as he approached the wall separating Skip’s backyard from the beach. He looked around furtively, shoulders hunched, before he finally flattened himself against the gate.

  Kelsey inhaled sharply. Slowly the gate began to open. Isaac wedged one shoulder in and paused.

  “Skip!” Kelsey hit the stairs at a run and burst into the den. “Skip—in back—he’s trying to break in—”

  “What! Who?” Skip stared at her, not fully comprehending, and Kelsey wondered if he’d been drinking. Justin and Neale were already running out the door to the pool. Donna jumped up and looked at Kelsey, and Skip finally grumbled and followed the other boys outside.

  “Are you okay?” Donna grabbed Kelsey by the wrist and they raced out into the yard, just in time to see Justin and Neale run out through the gate.

  “I saw him from the window—” She waited breathlessly for the sounds of a struggle. “They should have caught him by now. He was halfway in the gate—”

  “Well, there’s nobody there now,” Skip spread his arms wide, letting them drop again loosely to his sides. “You said ‘he’—”

  “Yes, it was Isaac.”

  “Isaac!”

  “I’m sure of it. I could see him plain as day.”

  “What’s he hanging around here for?” Donna asked, more annoyed than frightened. “Doesn’t he have anything better to do?”

  “Oh, he probably heard the music and wanted to join the party.” Skip grinned as Justin and Neale came back into the yard. “Any luck?”

  “Not a sign of life anywhere.” Justin latched the gate and added, “What happened to your security system, anyway?”

  “It hinders my comings and goings,” Skip said wickedly. “I disconnect it whenever possible.”

  “Kelsey said it was Isaac,” Donna added.

  “Isaac? What the hell’s he doing here?” Neale muttered. He tossed Kelsey a curious glance as he passed.

  “I didn’t imagine it,” Kelsey said icily.

  “Did I say you did?” Neale sounded unconcerned.

  “You implied it. I saw him from the window upstairs.”

  “That’s all right,” Justin stepped in. “We’re all a little jumpy. And Isaac’s harmless.”

  “Nobody,” Skip lifted his beer can, “is harmless.”

  “He’s right,” Neale said, and Skip looked at him in surprise. “How well can you ever really know anyone?” He disappeared into the house, leaving the rest of them in an uneasy huddle.

  “I think we should go home,” Justin said. He laid one hand gently across Kelsey’s back and nodded. “This is enough excitement for one evening. Got your things?”

  She couldn’t remember where she’d left her purse, and had to go back through the house looking for it. At last she found it in Skip’s room on a chair, and was just bending down to get it when she heard someone come in behind her.

  “Couldn’t stay away, huh.” Skip gave her that teasing smile, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Skip, you scared me half to death. I was just looking for my purse.”

  “Oh,” he looked disappointed, “I thought maybe you’d come to finish the tour.”

  “You mean there’s more?” she laughed.

  “Oh, my dear,” Skip draped one arm around her neck and guided her clumsily to another door not far from the darkroom. “I am just full of surprises, shocks, and thrills—” He pushed the door wide and raised his voice in a falsetto fanfare. “TADA! And here we have the eighth wonder of the world—” He swept his arms to encompass the crowded exercise room, and Kelsey burst out laughing as she saw what the “eighth wonder” was—a full-length mirror in which Skip’s image grinned back at her.

  “Well, aren’t I right? Aren’t I the next international monument?”

  Kelsey shook her head. “You’re a wonder, all right.”’ Besides all the gym equipment in the room, the walls were hung with mounted animal heads, obviously very much alive at one time. Stuffed pheasants, frozen in flight; ducks with shiny feathers; a small red fox with beady black eyes… She took a nervous step backward, and then she saw the deer—the delicate face and slender neck of a doe, the eyes wide and soft and trusting, the quintessence of gentleness. Kelsey felt a shiver of revulsion, a wave of sadness—strange…the eyes reminded her of Justin…

  “Skip,” she mumbled, not wanting to stay one more minute in the presence of this horrible display.

  “You don’t approve,” he said blandly, not seeming surprised at all. He lifted a beer can, and his mouth curled up in an apologetic grin. “Well, neither does my dear, sweet mother. That’s why I have them all hanging in here away from the general public. Another trophy room of mine, I guess you could say. And here I though
t you’d be impressed by my primal hunter’s instinct.”

  “I…I just don’t see how you could have…killed that deer.” Kelsey turned to him, disappointed. “They’re so sweet and helpless…”

  “It’s the tracking, really,” Skip went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “The tracking…going after them…and the prey…unsuspecting…” His voice lowered, eyes fixed on the deer head high on the wall. “So helpless, and you run it down…stalk it till it’s finally yours.” He snickered, and Kelsey felt a chill snake up her arms. “It’s the tracking, Kelsey, that’s the real fun of it,” he whispered. “They don’t see you…but they know. They know you’re there, and they know they’re going to die. Sometimes,” his eyes fell on hers, “you can even smell their fear, it’s so strong.”

  Kelsey pushed him aside. “Skip, you’re drunk. I’m going home.”

  “And that completes this particular tour,” Skip announced. “Of course, there are more private, exclusive tours I’d be more than happy to sign you up for.” His eyes twinkled blearily as he looked her up and down, and Kelsey gave him a tight smile.

  “What I can’t understand,” she said, “is how you could ever stand to go away to school and leave all this.”

  “Why?” Skip feigned alarm, drawing back with a gasp. “Why, indeed!” He fell back on the waterbed, looking peculiarly smug. “Number one—I am a very, very unmanageable son, and dear old Dad wants me out of his hair. Number two—am I going too fast for you?—I am the ultimate embarrassment to my saintly mother, who doesn’t happen to be here now, by the way, because she’s having a new affair that no one’s supposed to know about, but, of course, everyone does. And number three—the reason that I’m a very, very unmanageable son and the ultimate embarrassment is because this place is a stinking prison!”

  Kelsey hadn’t expected this—she stared back at him in silence, trying to make up her mind just how drunk he really was. His face wore that same mocking expression it always wore, but as he looked back at her, his mouth trembled and he gave a forced, weak laugh.

  “A prison, in case I didn’t make myself clear. A prison of…” he frowned, searching for the word, then snapped his fingers, “of privilege!”

  Kelsey didn’t know what to say. Suddenly she felt like an intruder, who had no right to hear these things.

  “You’re right, Kelsey,” Skip said, very quiet now, “I probably am drunk.” He twirled the beer can slowly between his fingers, then shook his head. “No. I’m not drunk. I couldn’t do that to Justin, not tonight.” He smiled at Kelsey, and she smiled back, believing him. “No, Kelsey, it’s a strange, strange world I live in, this land of the rich and greedy. Everyone thinks I have everything.”

  “And do you?” she asked softly.

  “I’m used to getting what I want.” His smile twisted, went bitter. “And what I don’t get…well…I just take.”

  Kelsey felt her smile falter, fade. She looked at him uneasily, then turned as Justin’s voice floated up from the stairs.

  “Kelsey, we’re leaving!”

  “Yes, I’m coming!”

  Skip raised his beer can in farewell. “To out next meeting?”

  “Skip, you either have to drive us home, or we’re taking your car!” Justin yelled, and Skip clambered up with a sigh.

  “That’s what I get for giving the chauffeur the night off…”

  Kelsey was glad to rejoin the others, and this time she sat in the backseat beside Justin. The night had turned chilly, and as the jeep sped homeward, she was conscious of Justin’s arm protectively around her, his chest and shoulders shielding her from the wind. When they finally reached the cottage, Neale jumped out first, eyeing them coolly as Justin casually withdrew his arm and nudged Kelsey out.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Donna promised. “I know a great place for a picnic—breakfast, okay?”

  “Well, some of us have to work for a living,” Skip said, ruffling Donna’s hair. She ignored him. “See you guys tomorrow—”

  There was a chorus of good-byes, and Kelsey followed the boys into the house. Neale went straight upstairs and closed the door. Justin hesitated in the hall outside Kelsey’s room, waiting for her to turn on her lamp.

  “Justin, are you sure you’re all right?” Kelsey asked again. She looked into his eyes, searching for answers.

  He nodded. “But what about you?”

  “I’m okay. You know you really terrified me tonight—I really thought—”

  “Ssh…” His finger touched her lips. “Me, too…but it’s over now. Everything’s okay.”

  “Is it?” She wasn’t sure why she said that, wasn’t sure if she just imagined a shadow flickering over his face. “Justin, what happened out there? I was standing right next to you—if it was an undertow like Neale said, then why didn’t I get washed away, too, and—”

  “It wasn’t an undertow,” Justin said softly.

  At first Kelsey thought she’d misunderstood him. She stared, frowning, letting his words sink in. “What…?”

  “I know what Neale said, Kelsey, but he was wrong. I didn’t want to scare anybody back there, especially you. But it wasn’t an undercurrent or anything like that. It was like—I don’t know—” He shook his head slowly, as if trying to recall the exact feelings, the exact fear—“like something alive grabbed me from underwater. Grabbed me and pulled me down.” He glanced at her, almost guiltily. “Maybe I imagined it…maybe I panicked when I went under…it just felt…” His eyes closed for a second, a brief flash of pain creasing his brow.

  “Justin,” Kelsey whispered. She sounded frightened, and he looked annoyed with himself.

  “Listen to me, standing here inventing things to worry about…what matters is that we’re both okay. Let’s not think about it anymore.”

  “But you could have been—”

  “But I wasn’t.” He smiled down at her, his body relaxing a little. “I guess I owe you another swimming lesson.”

  “No, I don’t think so.” His eyes were so blue…so clear…and she couldn’t look away…

  “Good-night, then.”

  “Good-night.”

  She slipped into her nightgown, pulled on her robe, and perched on the edge of her bed. So much had happened…so much that wasn’t right… She had to think.

  Her eyes lowered, fell again on the rug at her feet. The stains were still there, lopsided rings of faded dampness, but the seaweed was gone. She stared hard at the spot where it had been, seeing it again in her mind, and she knew with fierce certainty that she hadn’t imagined it. She got down on the floor, crawled slowly from the rug to the door, eyes narrowed and intense. No footprints here. No water marks, no leftover stains…“when I got to your room I didn’t see any seaweed…” When had the other boys gotten to her room? And where had the seaweed been then?

  Kelsey crawled back to the rug and started over again, toward the bathroom door.

  What she found there turned her cold.

  She hadn’t noticed it before—she was positive it hadn’t been there or she’d have stepped on it. But now—now it was lying just beneath the bathroom door—as if someone had tried to push it under and it had snagged—almost hidden, but not quite—just that one matted glob that had started to dry and work its way free and now left a little trail across the floor like a strand of damp hair…

  With trembling fingers Kelsey reached out…horrified…touched it…

  She jerked her hand back, but the seaweed clung, and she cried out as she tried to fling it off, to unpeel it like dead skin…

  The awful thing sailed across the floor, landing with a thud.

  Kelsey’s hands flew to her heart, her throat, fluttered to her mouth and finally to her pocket, where they froze as a look of disbelief contorted her face. For suddenly in the far reaches of her mind, she heard Jenny’s voice again over the phone, struggling to get through—“there’s that echo—Kelsey, you sound like you’re in a tunnel or something—that echo!”—and she’d been trying, trying so hard, to
tell Jenny about the note, only Jenny hadn’t heard a word she’d said…

  But somebody had.

  Because when she had hung up the phone, there had been two clicks, not one…

  Somebody had listened in and heard everything.

  And now the note was gone.

  Chapter 13

  THE SKY WAS JUST glowing pink when Kelsey slipped out of the cottage. She paused on the steps and slid her arms into her purple windbreaker. She hadn’t heard the footsteps behind her. Now as that shadow took form beside the house, she stifled a scream.

  “You’re up early,” Neale said. She could feel the intensity of his stare, even though his eyes were part of the morning darkness, and she tried to stare back, undaunted.

  “So are you.”

  “I always am.” He moved off and climbed into his jeep. “You need a lift somewhere?” he asked without looking up.

  “No…I was just going for a walk.”

  “Suit yourself.” The jeep’s engine grudgingly came to life. Kelsey watched as Neale aimed it for the break in the trees.

  “Neale!” she called. “Wait!” She suddenly found herself clutching the door handle and looking up into his eyes. There was something so cold about them…black and bottomless. For one weird instant she had the sensation of peering straight down into his soul—and finding nothing there. The shock of it brought her back again, to his insolent gaze and the impatient set of his mouth. “How’s Justin this morning?” she asked lamely.

  He jerked his thumb in the direction of the house. “Asleep. Why don’t you ask him yourself?” He reached down to shift gears, and her hand came down on his arm.

  “Wait. I’ve got to ask you something important. It’s about Beth.”

  This time there was a response in the eyes, as if something roused and warily wakened. Kelsey’s fingers loosened on his arm, and her heart gave an uneasy flutter.

  “Get in,” he nodded.

  She sat as far from him as she could without falling out of the jeep, and he drove slowly, both hands on the steering wheel, eyes straight ahead. They headed down the beach toward the concession stands and the boat docks, Neale’s eyes keen upon the shadows, as if he could ferret out their darkest secrets. Kelsey sat still and waited for him to say something. At last the jeep braked to an abrupt halt. Neale shifted his body so that he was facing her and appraised her with his eyes.