By the time I reached it, they’d found a parking spot around the back of the building and were inside. I parked my Honda across the rear end of the Miata, blocking it in. It was one of the first ones, from the early nineties. The folded-down roof was faded and torn in places. I was betting the plastic rear window, once the roof was up, would be yellowed and nearly impossible to see through.
I phoned Ms. Plimpton’s house. She answered on the first ring.
“Yes?”
“You can stand down.”
I heard wrestling over the handset, and then Gloria came on. “Jeremy?”
“It’s Cal. I found him. I’ll bring him home shortly.”
“Where is he? What did he—”
“I’ll be back soon.”
I slipped my cell back into my jacket, got out of the car, locked it, and went into the restaurant. It wasn’t busy, and Jeremy and the girl were standing by the counter. It looked as though they’d already ordered. I hung back, out of sight behind a pillar, and waited until they had their food and were seated.
At that point, I went to the counter and watched as someone loaded up a wire basket with frozen fries, then lowered them into the fryer. The grease sizzled and spat. I asked the young guy at the cash for a coffee.
Jeremy and the girl were sitting on opposite sides of a table for four, leaning in close to one another, giggling and laughing.
I ambled over to their table and casually dropped into the chair beside Jeremy. They’d ordered burgers and shakes and were sharing a large order of fries. A cell phone was sitting on the table right in front of Jeremy.
“Oh, shit,” Jeremy said. “You.”
“Who’s this?” the girl asked. She looked about the same age as Jeremy.
I smiled at her. “I’m Cal Weaver.” I offered my hand. The girl, caught off guard, raised ketchup-smeared fingers. “That’s okay.” I said. “How’s it going, Jeremy?”
“How’d you find me?” he asked.
“Honestly?” I said. “Dumb luck. Who’s your friend?”
“This is Charlene,” he said, rolling his eyes and slowly shaking his head.
“Who is this guy?” his girlfriend asked.
“This is my new bodyguard,” he said dismissively.
“What’s your last name, Charlene?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Wilson.”
Jeremy said, “I’ve known Charlene since like third grade.”
“The Miata yours, or your parents’?” I asked her.
Her tongue moved around in her mouth. “It was my mom’s but she gave it to me when she got a new one.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t this a school day? Do your parents know you’re here instead of in class in Albany?”
“School’s over for today,” Charlene said.
She had me there.
“So, you two going steady?” I asked, reaching for one of their fries and popping it into my mouth.
Jeremy rolled his eyes again. “God, what century are you from?”
I smiled. “That’s what we called it back when we went to sock hops.”
Jeremy blinked, as though I’d just spoken to him in Swahili.
Charlene jumped in. “We’ve been friends forever,” she said. “Like Jeremy said, since we were just kids. I’m like the only friend he’s got left. All these people who said they were his friend, once everything happened, they all abandoned him. It’s like they didn’t even know him any more. But not me.”
“Yeah,” Jeremy said. “It’s true.”
“So I came up to see him. Is that a crime?”
“It’s not like she’s on probation,” Jeremy said. “Look, she’ll bring me back to Madeline’s house in ten minutes.”
“That’s gonna be hard,” I said. “I’ve got Charlene’s car blocked in.”
Jeremy wilted. “Come on, man. I just wanted to get out.”
“Like the other time?”
“Huh?”
“Your mom says you’ve slipped out before since you got to her aunt’s place.”
He took a bite of his burger, looked at Charlene, as though trying to pretend I wasn’t there.
“Where’d you go?” I asked.
Chewing.
“What I’m wondering is whether you were seen. Charlene here isn’t the only one who knows you’re staying in Promise Falls. Your entire fan base seems to have figured it out. You just missed all the fun at the house.”
He stopped chewing and looked at me. “What?”
I told him about the brick through the window. He closed his eyes briefly, something that might actually have been a wince of guilt or regret.
“Is everyone okay?” he asked. “Is Madeline okay?”
“Yeah. So where else have you gone since you got to Promise Falls?”
He gave me a no-big-deal shrug. “Just around.”
“Anyone recognize you?”
He looked out the window.
“Jeremy?”
“Some guys. I was walking by some assholes, one grabbed my arm, said I was the Big Baby.”
“Did things get out of hand?”
He shook his head. “That was it.”
“Did they follow you?”
He thought a moment. “I don’t know.”
I reached for another fry. I didn’t see any reason why these two shouldn’t finish their burgers. It’d give me time to drink my coffee.
“For someone who’s supposed to be on Jeremy’s side,” Charlene said, “you sure seem to be picking on him.”
“That so?” I said.
“All of this has been so unfair,” she said. “Everyone thinks he’s this awful kid, but he’s not.”
“I don’t think I said he was.” I was curious that she had decided to speak up. “I just want him to be safe.”
“Yeah, right,” she said with an eye roll. “Everyone judges. The thing is, that girl was way drunker than Jeremy and probably fell right in front of the car. Wouldn’t have mattered if Jeremy was totally sober, he’d still have hit her.”
Jeremy’s entire body seemed to flinch as I gave the girl my full attention. “You were there?”
She shook her head quickly. “No. I mean, yes, I was at the party, but I wasn’t there when it happened. But everyone knew she liked to drink. I’m just saying, that’s probably what happened.”
Jeremy, looking uncomfortable as he took his burger in both hands, said, “It’s okay, Charlene.”
“No, it’s not,” she said. “The whole world’s been so hard on you and you don’t deserve it.”
Jeremy shrugged. “What are ya gonna do?” he said, and took a bite. “It’s done.”
“That part, maybe,” I said. “But you’re still dealing with the fallout. Which is why you, and your mother, need to be a lot more circumspect.”
“A lot more what?” Jeremy said, the words coming out garbled between bits of meat and bun.
“Careful,” Charlene told him.
I reached for the phone on the table in front of Jeremy.
“Hey!” he said, spewing a shred of lettuce.
I lit up the screen and saw an exchange of texts between Jeremy and Charlene, including instructions on where to pick him up once he’d slipped out of Ms. Plimpton’s house.
I turned the phone toward him. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
“Give that back,” he said, putting down the burger and holding out his hand.
“You and your mom really love your phones.”
“She’s way worse than I am. She’s always texting with Bob.”
“You don’t like him?” I asked, keeping the phone out of his reach.
“He’s her knight in shining armor,” Jeremy said. “Her chance at the life to which she has always wanted to be accustomed.”
I kept glancing at Charlene, who looked increasingly annoyed with me.
“I should get back,” she said. She balled up the wrapper her burger had come in, took a last sip of her shake. “Will you move your car?” She
paused, then added, “Please?”
“Sure.”
“My phone?” Jeremy said.
“Not to worry,” I said, raising my hand. “It’s safe with me.”
We all stood. I put my coffee cup on the plastic tray. When Jeremy made no move to gather up his trash and clear the table, Charlene did it.
As the three of us were walking out, I briefly unnerved the kid taking the orders by slipping behind the counter.
“Mister?” he said.
“Just one sec.”
I held Jeremy’s phone an inch over the fryer, then dropped it carefully into the sizzling oil so as not to make a splash.
“What the fuck?” said Jeremy.
I slipped a ten to the kid on the till. “For your trouble. You might have to throw out that batch of fries.”
TEN
CONSTANCE Gaffney had her husband drop her and Monica off at the main entrance to Promise Falls General while Albert parked the car. The couple had not said a word to each other on the drive over, and when Monica attempted to ask any questions, all either of them would say was “We’ll see.” Or, “I don’t know.”
Except once, when Constance said, to no particular question, “Your father might know that. He seems to have the answer to everything.”
Albert didn’t even glance in her direction.
Constance and Monica were still standing at the information desk, stuck behind an elderly couple who’d been wandering the hospital trying to find the gerontology department, when Albert Gaffney came in through the sliding glass doors.
“Where is he?” he whispered.
“We’re still waiting to find out,” Constance said irritably.
Albert stood silently with his wife and daughter while the older couple struggled with the directions they were being given.
“We go which way?” the woman asked. “Follow which line?”
Constance looked at Albert and tipped her head, urging him wordlessly to interrupt the two old codgers and find out where Brian was. When he didn’t immediately butt in, Monica took the lead.
“Hey,” she said, raising her voice and cutting in front of the couple. “My brother Brian Gaffney got brought in. Where is he?”
The woman tapped away on her computer. “Probably still in the ER,” she said. “If they’ve moved him to a room, it hasn’t shown up here yet.”
“Which way?” Constance barked.
Once they’d been given directions, they made their way to the emergency department. They were told they’d find Brian in the adjoining ward in bed thirty-two. The three of them wandered in there, past beds that had been curtained off, until they reached the right one. The drape was pulled shut.
It was Monica who tentatively pulled it back to see if her brother was there.
“Hey,” Brian said. “I was wondering if you guys would come.” He was sitting up in bed, clad in a hospital dressing gown, covers pulled up to his waist. His clothes were piled on a nearby chair.
His sister and parents crowded around the bed. Constance leaned in to give her son a kiss first, followed by Monica. Albert stood at the foot of the bed and nodded sheepishly.
“What happened?” Constance asked. “You look okay.”
“It’s kind of hard to explain,” Brian said. “At first I thought I’d been abducted by—Well, never mind about that. The police don’t think that’s what happened. But somebody kinda knocked me out and . . . did something to me.”
His family members exchanged nervous looks.
“Did what?” Albert asked softly.
Brian grimaced. “It’s easier to just show you. This gown thing is kinda open at the back so you can see it. Just don’t look at my butt, Monica.” He shifted onto his side, careful to pull up the covers so as not to expose too much of himself below the waist. Monica came around from the other side of the bed, and Albert moved up from the foot.
They all saw what had been done to him at the same moment, and there was a collective gasp.
“Oh dear God,” said his mother.
“What is that?” Monica asked. “Is that actually tattooed on there?”
“That’s what they say,” Brian said.
“Jesus,” said Albert. He reached out tentatively and touched the words SICK FUCK.
“Why would someone do that because of a dog?” asked Monica.
“Huh?” said Brian.
“Remember Mrs. Beecham’s dog?” she said.
Brian struggled to remember. “Oh, shit, yeah, the one I ran over.”
“She slashed our tires,” Albert recalled.
“You’d never confront her,” Constance said. “You never said a word to that awful woman.”
“There was no way to prove it,” he said. “It wasn’t like I got her on video or anything.”
Brian said, “Seems like a long time to hold a grudge about running over somebody’s dog.”
“This would never have happened if you hadn’t moved out,” Constance said. “I knew that was a mistake.”
“It really didn’t have anything to do with that,” Brian said.
Monica was still gazing at the tattoo, lightly touching the other words, just as her father had touched SICK FUCK. “Who was it, Brian? Who did this? I don’t think Mrs. Beecham could have done it. I mean, she’s an old lady.”
“I don’t know. I was asleep through all of it.” He rolled onto his back again. His lip started to tremble. “I’m glad you guys came.”
“Of course,” Constance said. “We came as soon as that police detective told us. When you get out of the hospital, you’re coming back to stay with us. Your room is just sitting there.”
Brian looked at his father. “I don’t know. I was doing okay on my own.”
“Oh, right,” his mother said. “And look at you now.”
Albert’s neck muscles had stiffened, and his face was turning red. “You wanna move home, that’s fine. But you went to Knight’s all the time, right? Even before you moved out.”
“Dad’s right,” Brian said. “This hasn’t got nothing to do with my leaving home.”
“What’s the doctor say?” Albert asked. “Can they get that mess off you?”
Brian shook his head. “What they’re worried about is, like, an infection.”
“What?” said his mother.
“They gotta do tests, in case, like, I’ve got hepatitis or something.”
“Dear Lord,” Constance said.
“Shit,” Monica said.
Albert slipped around to the other side of the curtain. His legs were briefly visible, and then he walked away.
“What’s with him?” Brian asked.
“He feels bad, and so he should,” Constance said.
Monica shook her head. “Jesus, Mom, don’t lay all this on Dad. He was right, wanting Brian to be on his own. It’s not like he forced him to move out. He put it out there, and Brian liked the idea.” She looked at her brother. “Am I right?”
“Pretty much,” he said.
Monica continued. “I want to be on my own, soon as I can. If something happens to me, will that be Dad’s fault too?”
“You always take your father’s side,” Constance said.
“Oh God, here we go.”
“You do.”
“There’s no sides here,” Monica said.
Brian’s eyes went back and forth between them. He said, “You think you guys could take it outside?”
Constance put her hand on his. “These tests are going to turn out just fine, I know they are.”
“I’m gonna find Dad,” Monica said, whisking back the curtain and disappearing.
Monica returned to the ER waiting room, but he wasn’t there. She wondered if he had gone back to the car. But then she spotted him down a hallway, sitting in a plastic chair, elbows propped on his knees, his head in his hands.
She strode up the hall and sat down next to him abruptly.
“Hey,” she said.
When he took his hands from his face and looked at he
r, she saw that he had been crying.
“Maybe your mother is right,” he said. “I pressured him to leave.”
“Isn’t that what parents are supposed to do? Make kids independent? And I just told her, you never forced him to go. You gave him the choice to go. He wanted to see if he could manage on his own.”
Albert smiled thinly at his daughter. “I guess. But your mother didn’t think he was ready.”
“He’d never have been more ready,” Monica said. “Yeah, maybe Brian’s a bit naïve. Sometimes people take advantage of him. But he’s a good soul, and it’s not like you guys are going to live forever. Sooner or later he’d have to fend for himself.”
“That’s what I kept saying.” He looked down at his hands again. “It’s like he’s been vandalized, you know?” The tears started to come again.
“Yeah,” Monica said.
“Some fucking bastard has disfigured him for life.” He paused. “I have to make this right.”
“How you going to do that?”
“I don’t know. I want to know who did this to him. Whoever it was, I want to look him in the eye and ask how he could do it.”
“That’s kinda not your thing, Dad.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know. Taking people on. You’re kind of—and don’t get mad when I say this—but you’re kind of where Brian gets it from. You don’t return things to the store when they break down, you never send back your steak even when they do it wrong, you always let the other guy cut in and take the parking spot you had dibs on.”
“I save my anger for the fights that matter,” he said. “No sense getting killed over a parking spot.”
“Oh, Dad.” She leaned into him. “I mean, come on, if you were going to confront someone, you could start with Mom.”
“Sometimes it’s easier to go along,” he said.
“You can’t always do that,” his daughter said.
He looked at her. “You’re tough.”
“You can be too,” she said.
Albert paused. “I have to make it right with Brian. I have to do something.”
“Yeah, well, the police are looking into it now.”
Parting Shot Page 7