What Happened to Lani Garver

by Carol Plum-Ucci

  He didn't seem too interested in the fact that Lani had kicked his backpacks into the closet and kicked the door shut with his foot. I figured maybe Lani's nine-hundred-dollar book was in one. He didn't want it to get stolen before he could sell it for runaway money. Tony was too overcome by the outfit. He stared at Lani's costume, not seeming to notice what Lani's feet were doing.

  Tony finally said, "Hot outfit, darlin'. I think maybe you need to show it to the neighbors."

  Lani backed into the corner beside the dresser. I could not see his face in the shadows. And I really needed to see it. I really needed to know he had thought of some way to stump Tony and that I wasn't meeting his weak side for the first time. I had no clue what Lani would do—or could do, how strong or how stupid he could be.

  27

  The last thing I expected Lani to do was fall on the ground and start to cry right in front of Tony. It snapped my neck back and made me suspicious he was playing some kind of brilliant game. But when he lifted his face up, real tears were spilling down. He's not that good an actor. Nobody's that good.

  Tony went and stood over him, cat over a mouse. He had his legs kind of spread in this arrogant way that made me look around for something to hit him with. Unfortunately, the room was pretty cleared out, save some pillows and lit candles.

  "Your mom told me to come here, dough boy. I just seen her." He laughed, like this was the funniest thing in the world. "She's trying really hard to make friends around here. Went to play bingo with all the locals. I watched her go down there. My mom's there, too. Your mom looked so sad, trying not to cry on your aunt's shoulders. I figured she needed a friend. One minute she tells me she's scared you're going to run away again. Next minute she says she's scared you're going to stay and ruin her life."

  I flinched at the harshness of the remark, sensing the reality in it. Lani lifted his head about six inches off the floor and put it down again, not saying anything. I caught a flash of the wet shine on his cheeks, which seemed so out of character with his usual guts. Yet I had to admit ... when even parents betray you, what happens to hope? My mom had just done it, and it cuts through you like a knife.

  Tony was chattering on like we were a couple of his fishing buddies. "I told her I would talk to you, you know, as one of the nice local Joes. I told her maybe I could talk you into not running away. Maybe getting a haircut. I don't know." He hooted, finally, slapping his thigh. "I think maybe I could talk you into getting a haircut. With a little help from my friends. But I don't think I could talk you into staying here, when there's a chance you could, you know ... disappear forever and ever."

  An electric jolt almost threw me backwards as I took his meaning. Lani was mewling like a kitten. It took everything I had not to scream, "Shut up!" He was just egging Tony on. This is not an orchestrated suicide. It's not.

  I reached shakily for the phone Tony had dropped on the mattress, moving it under my leg, wondering how loud it would be if I hit 9-1-1. He had his back to me and toed Lani with his work boot, and Lani tried to crawl away from him, tripping over the nightgowns like an imbecile.

  "Yeah, we kind of like each other around here. We all ... fit in. You know?"

  "What are you going to do?" Lani still sounded like a kitten.

  "Will you shut up," I blasted at Lani in astonishment. Tony was feeding off his fear maniacally.

  "Why, I don't know what we're going to do to you! Maybe you can help us decide! Hey, maybe we can give you a choice. We can beat you within an inch of your life. We can give you a very, very close shave. All over your head! Claire can tell you about how a head wound bleeds. Or! We can throw you in a fishing net until we hear you cry 'uncle' from underwater! Did you know that Indian summer makes the air warm but that the water just keeps getting colder? It's about forty-five degrees right now. Wouldn't that be toasty?"

  "But..." Lani hiccuped. I gripped the hell out of that phone, still hoping against hope he would heave up a lastminute strategy. But he opened his mouth and sealed his own fate. "But ... I can hardly swim."

  "Oh! You can't swim!" Tony bellowed in fake shock. "Maybe we can teach you!"

  Beep ... beep ... beep...

  I never realized how loud a phone dialed. It echoed off the walls, pointlessly. Tony spun.

  "Help us!" I screamed, holding the phone out of his reach as he struggled for it. He ripped it from my grip, and I wasn't sure if the 9-1-1 call went through.

  He backed away, talking as he hit DELETE, DELETE, DELETE from the caller ID. "Where's the rest of the magazine?"

  Lani's eyes shot all over the room. "If I give it to you ... Promise you will not throw me in any water."

  Tony shrugged. "Okay. Promise."

  I kicked at Lani's jeans as he lifted the outfit and reached into his jeans pocket. I accidentally kicked him hard enough to make him yelp. But if he got any stupider, we'd both wind up dead. "Will you just shut up!"

  "I don't care. I don't care anymore," he cried.

  "Well, if you don't care about you, could you please care about me!" I bellowed, then realized we were just tickling Tony's funny bone by arguing. He was laughing so hysterically, my anger buttons went off. I balled up my fist and came through from the side with all my strength. Despite that I knocked him pretty good in the skull, he barely staggered, grabbing hold of my throbbing knuckles and turning them to sludge.

  Stupider than Lani, I just started spewing out the truth. "You know what, Clementi? There isn't even a word for someone like you. What do you call a closet gay who gay bashes? You are such a slimy concept that people don't even have a name for it!"

  Before I knew what happened, I was slammed up against the wall, pinned there, choking on his tongue. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

  I finally heaved a huge gulp of air as he breathed in my face. "I wanna hear again what you just called me. Maybe my hearing ain't right."

  I just stared at him in terrified awe. I could not believe he would still deny it. He stared back at me, though I could hear Lani behind him, fussing with papers or something.

  "Here! Just take it. Take it and get out and leave me alone. Just leave us alone!"

  He hurled the folded pages of the magazine at Tony, but being paper, they just flitted to the floor. It looked pathetic.

  Fortunately, it was a distraction, and Tony backed off from me to swoop them up. I heaved a sigh of relief, despite Lani still on his stupid spree.

  "You promised. I gave it to you, so you can't throw me in the water."

  Okay. He's on his own if he's that dumb.

  I waited until Tony had held the pages over a candle flame and started giving Lani a lecture on how you hold your breath underwater when you're freezing. I turned and hurled myself into the hallway, jumping down the stairs six at a time. To my amazement Tony did not chase after me. I yanked open the front door and stopped.

  "Scott, Phil, and my brother are here, too." Tony'd said it to my mom.

  He was laughing crazily upstairs, Lani was mewling again, and I wanted nothing more than to get away from the sounds of both of them. All seemed quiet out front, but I fumbled to the back door just in case the guys were hiding. I threw myself into the night air.

  I raced for the curb, trying to gauge how long it would take me to run to the police station. Five blocks ... two minutes... The sky came up to meet me as I was hurled to the grass. A pile of bricks fell on me, which had the head of Phil Krilley.

  "Came out the back!" he shouted.

  Footsteps pounded closer. I had hoped Tony had lied to Mom. He would have to come alone to destroy evidence. The idea that he could dupe three huge guys to staying in the back of his truck while he went in the house ... I had not conceived of that.

  Phil still had too much trust. He jumped off me too quickly, and I bolted. But it was like square-dancing with three gorillas. I blindly threw punches, all my newly found anger whaling at them. One at a time I was stunning them, dodging through them. They made it a group effort. I ended up on the bottom of a football
pile that somehow was not on the ground but in the back of Tony's truck, parked on the dark side street.

  "Claire, we're gonna take you to the goddamn nuthouse!" It was Scott's voice. "Just calm down! Next person you hit, you're gonna get hit back!"

  I couldn't tell who was on top of who. Scott sounded kind of high up. I felt one of them grab the back of my hair, tight, and Scott said, "Okay, get off her."

  They started getting off, and all I needed was the sight of Vince Clementi's face in the street lamp. I could see a shiner from where I'd gotten him the other night, and I swung for it so hard, he fell over the side, roaring curses.

  I was on my feet. Scott still had my hair. "Don't touch her, Vince! I don't trust you ... You'd kill her or something."

  Scott jerked my neck around until I was looking at him, instead. He landed a really hard slap on my face. I saw stars but went nuts again. I was swinging blindly at Scott, and he kept slapping me until I couldn't open one eye and I felt blood running down my lip. They still didn't know about this deal Tony had cut with my mom about bringing me home and not hurting me. They ruined everything. I wanted to be delivered home with a couple of black eyes.

  I was on the flatbed again, and Scott was sitting on top of me, winning this thing, but not without a fight.

  "Tony! Bring him out! Let's go!" I heard Phil's voice shouting up at the window.

  I spoke between gulps for air. "Scott, you know what Tony's doing up there?"

  "He's bringing Princess Garver out here, so we can—"

  "No, no. Uh-uh." I breathed more. "Did he tell you he didn't want you to come in with him?"

  "Yeah."

  "Now, why do you think that is?"

  Scott's lip had curled, like he didn't trust me at all. Like I was nuts. "He wants to bring him out himself! Since the little prick came on to Tony, why shouldn't he?"

  "That's not what happened! He's up there deleting his own phone-sex calls off caller ID! He's up there burning a gay porn mag that he came all over—"

  "Aaaaahhhh!" The loud noise from Vince drowned me out, and he reached over the side of the flatbed for a handful of my hair. I screamed. Despite Scott hollering for him to lay off me, Vince slammed my head down onto the flatbed once, twice, and I shut my eyes as a pain in my neck turned to fire. I started seeing double, and then I saw nothing.

  28

  My vision floated out of black and blue haze in the freezing air. I sensed exactly where I was. I had a strong notion that I'd already come around a few times since Lani's house. I was curled up on something soft, which I already knew was a huge tangle of used, nylon fishing line that fishermen saved to repair torn nets. I was rocking gently. Dern's Dream was too massive to be swayed by these guys lurching around in silhouette about ten feet away from me. And from the frosty wind hitting my face, I realized the surf was rough enough to kick up this much sway.

  I knew I had been brought here in the back of Tony's truck. I had come around once in the truck, and the guys had been all over Lani, who was still so ape shit that I decided I had to be dreaming. But the weather change sent cold air whipping down on my knuckles, biting my neck around my jacket, until there was nothing to do but admit this was real. I remember almost deciding to pass out again to escape the embarrassing, helpless sounds. The bounces as Tony gunned it helped me along with that decision.

  I had come to again as the truck stopped, and found enough sense to shut my eyes.

  "She's awake. She's faking it," Phil had said, and they stood there arguing about whether to leave me in the flatbed or not. I had tried to be dead weight as one of them picked me up, though other voices were arguing that I wasn't faking it and I couldn't run. The punch I threw landed on wind, doing little more than reminding me to keep my fingers moving to avoid frostbite. They hung like weak Jell-O blobs. I thought, Screw the whole thing, and I passed out again.

  I'd been coming in and out for a few minutes on the deck of the boat, but this time the wind seemed to wake me up more than put me back out. Hot jabs shot through my head and neck, despite the fact that I was freezing, and the sounds of laughter made me too queasy to pass out again. I finally remembered why I had decided to pass out the last time.

  They had tossed Lani into Mr. Dern's huge fishing net and started to crank its huge arm out over the water, threatening to lower him under. I had thought of running, but as soon as I raised my head, the world spun on its side.

  Message to God: Do something.

  Despite the few splashes I could hear through the hooting and laughter, I figured maybe God had listened. They had not completely dunked Lani. I could still hear his pitiful screaming while the splashes echoed. I wanted to scream at him again to shut the hell up because obviously it was only egging them on.

  The net hung over the water. Lani was curled into a little white ball, the whiteness of the costume glowing. Water dripped like a faucet, but I couldn't see if they had submerged him to his butt or to his arms. His hair blew in the raging wind, still dry.

  As if right on cue from my message to God, Phil laughed and said, "That's enough. Miss Garver's had enough."

  Scott agreed. "Yeah. Get him the fuck off my boat."

  Vince continued to push him in the net like it was a kiddie swing. And Tony, standing back by the crank, gave it a good spin, and I heard another of those small splashes. Lani carried on like a dying cat, so I knew they hadn't dipped low enough to send his head under.

  I started looking around for something to hit Tony with. It was a long shot, but if I could knock him out, Vince would try to help him, and Scott and Phil probably wouldn't do anything to Lani and me without the crazies egging them on.

  The only thing I could see was a small fisherman's hatchet, lying about five feet from me. Silently I reached for it, my throbbing head realizing how crazy the odds were.

  I didn't have time to get my fingers around the handle. I watched as Tony took an extra hard swing on that crank, and the net flew downward. A loud splash was followed only by whipping wind. Tony laughed hysterically, and Lani was silent ... Gone under ... gonna get tangled ... shock freeze.

  I jumped to my feet and staggered to the edge of the boat, screaming something in a begging voice that even I couldn't understand. The water was white with little bubbles and whitecaps. I dived for Tony and the crank, but he shoved me to the side like a rag doll, and I continued to plead with him in a voice that made me finally understand why Lani had pleaded the way he had. I never felt so completely at someone else's mercy. You've got nothing to do but grovel.

  It was Phil who shoved Tony aside and grabbed for the crank. He spun it around and around saying, "Tony, let him go now. This could get too fucked up—"

  The net came up, and Lani was still curled in this tight little ball, but he wasn't moving, wasn't screaming anymore.

  I heard Scott say, "Bring him in! He looks dead."

  Vince laughed. "He's faking it! Dead people don't shake like a leaf. Let him enjoy the breeze for a couple minutes."

  "We'll make him beg!" Tony decided, getting a firmer grip on the crank. "Yo, Miss Garver! Repeat after me: Tony Clementi, you hold my life in your hands. And I would lick your boots if I was good enough."

  In spite of the darkness, I could see Lani's eyes open wide. His pupils were so dark that the whites of his eyes lit neon. I actually felt relieved. They are going to let him go ... Maybe he won't get beaten up ... Maybe this is it...

  He had begged for mercy well enough after Tony showed up. I braced myself to hear just the right amount of the same. When he opened his mouth, I decided monsters ruled the deep. He was some schizo. Multiple personalities. He chose this outstanding moment to return to his former blunt self.

  Despite him trembling with cold almost to the point of convulsing, we could hear him real plain. "You are a closetreading, homo-porn fanatic, scum wad, hypocrite ... who dials nine-hundred numbers to get off on pretty boys. Your mother knows. Your brother knows. I will haunt you until you'll wish you were never born, if you don't—"<
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  Tony plunged the net under. "Die, you motherfucker—"

  "Are you nuts?" I screamed at the surface of the water, even though that made no sense. "What the hell is wrong with you tonight?"

  Orchestrated suicide? I choked out a sob. The sobbing sounded helpless, too helpless. So my ape-shit buttons went to red again. My heel kicked the hatchet, and after watching it spin on its side, my eyes moved to Tony.

  "Die, die, die!" He laughed like a crazed nine-year-old.

  "Yo, pull him up!" Phil moved toward him. "Don't be messing with that bitch no more. I ain't going to jail over him—"

  Scott pushed Tony toward me, and he and Phil cranked the net up. Vince watched them with his back to us. Tony cast me an unconcerned glance, like I was some discarded life jacket. I swooped for the hatchet, remembering how Vince looked at me the same way the other night. That's what sent me over the edge, people looking at me and seeing some naive wimp.

  It would be the very last of my ape-shit attacks. The memory still scares the hell out of me. I decided, all in a flash, that I could commit murder, go to jail, and feel it was worth it. No decision made in a flash of ape shit is good. When I reached for that hatchet, I was looking for a way to kill Tony so I could feel great for the rest of my life.

  I raised it over my head as the net broke the surface, and Tony at least had the sense to raise up a hand to ward off the blow. The hatchet came down somewhere between his first and fourth fingers. I felt flesh and cartilage and bone send tremors up the hatchet, then it clattered onto the deck. Tony let out a yell like I'd ripped his legs off. He grabbed the hand in the other, but not before I could see a black line almost to the center of his palm. Black juice sprayed from between his fingers as he fell to his knees.

  I could have sworn somewhere in the background a voice was droning, "Don't, Claire."

  It sent a shock of horror through me, something without words, though if words had been available, they would have been something like Live by the sword, die by the sword. Tony was off his knees, and the other three were moving toward me, calling me curses I had never heard of.