In Beta

by Prescott Harvey

  Colin shifted uncomfortably. “Leave Bickleton?”

  “Yeah. Look, Todd probably hitched a ride to Portland. He’s probably yucking it up with a bunch of coeds right now. Partying his pants off. Miss Molouski and everyone else acts like it’s such a wild idea to leave, but we could do it. We don’t even have to wait till graduation.”

  “You said you still needed to save up money . . .”

  “With your savings, we could get an apartment in Portland. I could get a job. I don’t care where. Working at McDonalds, is better than living here, and that’s just till we start college. We could go this weekend, if we wanted. What do you say?”

  “I say . . .” Colin shifted uncomfortably. “I say . . .”

  Then Colin froze. His mouth worked in small little motions, but his eyes stared ahead. Jay followed his gaze. A red Land Cruiser pulled up on the curb below them. Liz, Amber, and Gretchen got out. They were laughing and gesturing, as if there had been no assembly about a missing kid. As if there was nothing that could bring three gorgeous high school seniors down.

  They started up the lawn, toward Bickleton Creamery, and then Liz’s gaze fell on Jay and Colin. She turned to her friends and whispered. Amber and Gretchen looked up at Jay, nodded, then hurried on into Bickleton Creamery.

  Liz began to climb the hill. Jay and Colin simultaneously straightened, preparing to flee. Jay’s heart was pounding, adrenaline flowing. Experience taught him that whatever was about to happen, it wasn’t going to be good. He looked around wildly, half-expecting Jeremy to rush out and grab him. But there was no one there. Just them, and Liz.

  Liz waved tentatively. She stopped when she saw Jay.

  “Are you guys okay?”

  Jay’s heart skipped a beat. His hand went self-consciously to his face. “Yeah, the swellings going down—”

  “No, I mean, Todd. You guys knew Todd, right? Know him, I should say.” She kept on brushing the hair from her eyes, as if she were nervous.

  Jay nodded. “Yeah. He and I used to tub together. I mean our moms put us in tubs together. When we were little.”

  He could feel his face heating up. “We’ve known each other for a while.”

  Liz gave a small laugh.

  “I hope he’s okay.”

  “We think he left for Portland.”

  “Ah, dang. And right before prom, too.” There was an awkward pause as her gaze lingered on Jay. She seemed to be working up to something. “Say . . . are you guys . . . going to prom?”

  Jay shot Colin a look. “Maybe. If we don’t follow Todd’s lead and leave. But, uh, we’d have to find some dates—”

  “Oh, I need a date, actually. My date canceled.”

  “Oh . . .” Jay’s heart began to pound. “I’m sorry to hear . . .”

  “Do–do you maybe want to go?”

  Jay’s heart was exploding. “With . . . you?”

  Liz gave a brief nod.

  Jay’s brain went blank. His mouth moved, but the words came out all foreign and jumbled. “Y-yeah, s-sure. That makes a lot of . . . a lot of sense. Neither of us has a date. We go together, you and I. Sure, yeah, let’s go. Together. To prom.”

  Liz hesitated, waiting for more, but Jay was frozen.

  “Great. Well. I’m sure we’ll talk more soon.”

  Then she turned and headed back down the hill, leaving Jay stunned, staring unseeing at the Cascade Range.

  Debrief

  “The hell was that?” Jay shouted toward the Skookullom River.

  They had pulled out onto the mudflats, the short spit of sand that stretched from lower Bickleton, where Rattlesnake Creek emptied into the greater waters of the Skookullom. In late spring, the water level had receded to uncover a patch of solid-brown sand that ran halfway across the river. It was compact enough for kids to walk on, and big enough that smaller, lighter cars, like the Batmobile, could drive across it.

  Colin stared out at the water. The river was a thick chocolate brown, full of sediment. Come August, when the glaciers started melting, it would run milky white with silt. The lumber mill had cleared the trees on this side of the river so that the cool spring sun fell on the sand. Colin bent to pick up a stone and skipped it upstream, where the water pooled. Jay paced back and forth, hands combing his hair.

  “How is this happening? In what universe does this happen?”

  “Happy birthday, I guess?”

  Jay stopped, staring at the large square warehouses upstream. The industry that was the backbone of Bickleton. A mountain of bald logs obscured the McKraken Mill. Behind that, Jay could just barely make out two fruit-packing plants, Duckwall and United Fruit Co. A third lot, Bickleton Erector’s Corp, was shut down, with a chain-link fence surrounding it and a sign that read: “No Trespassing, Dangerous Conditions.” From where he stood, he could hear the hum of air conditioners, the beep of forklifts. Jay shook his head.

  “It’s too good to be true.”

  Colin skipped another stone. “You’re not gonna go?”

  “Oh, I have to! It’s Liz Knight, for God’s sake.”

  “I didn’t know you liked her?”

  “Everyone likes her, given the chance. You know, we held hands once?”

  Colin nodded.

  “Yep. Back in first grade,” Jay reminisced. “We were swinging in tandem, our hands reached out. Just sort of happened. I bet she still remembers. Prolly why she asked me!”

  Colin frowned. “I thought she was going with Jeremy?”

  “Musta dumped him. Musta wised up. And she knows Jeremy hates me, and she wants to get back at him.”

  “Jeremy’s gonna be mad at you.”

  Jay shrugged. “Jeremy’s always mad at me.” He spun around and grabbed his best friend. “I get to go to prom with Liz Knight! I don’t know how we did it, Colin, but we are in the money. I need a car! I gotta get a driver’s license! I need a suit. And friends, I need friends. Who am I going to hang out with at prom? Colin, you gotta come. Oh God: Colin, can I borrow some money?”

  He caught a disapproving look on Colin’s face.

  “I’ll pay you back!”

  “I thought you were saving to leave town?”

  “It’s Liz. Knight.”

  Colin looked away wistfully. “I’ll lend you the Batmobile.”

  Jay placed a hand on Colin’s shoulder, touched, but also imagining what Liz would say if Jay rolled up in that piece of garbage.

  “Thanks, buddy. Let me think on that.”

  The Last Birthday

  Jay continued his stream-of-conscious chatter to Colin until his throat went dry, and then he just stared into the river. Eventually, the sun drew near the eastern ridge of the Cascades and disappeared into dark shadow. Shivering, they went back to the Batmobile.

  Colin dropped Jay off outside his house, wishing him a final happy birthday, and Jay headed up the short walk to his home, still lost in thought. His house was not much to look at. It wasn’t the worst house in Bickleton, but it was far from the best. A three-bedroom bungalow built back in the early 1900s—when Bickleton was still being settled by the great western push—its front awning had been pushed slightly askew as the earth underneath had slowly settled. The paint on the siding was chipped and peeling, moss grew on the roof, and a permanent layer of funk stained the gutters black. It was small and drafty, but—unlike the neighbors’—it was at least clear of rusty farm equipment.

  Jay flung open the front door. In the corner of the living room, a potbellied stove blazed, issuing wisps of pine smoke. On the couch, Kathy Banksman was leaning forward, in the middle of a conversation with their neighbor Tara. Kathy had beehive hair, glasses, a gap in her front teeth, and a half-smile that men had once found irresistible. The television was on, blaring Thelma & Louise, his mom’s favorite movie. She turned as Jay walked in, and Jay saw she wasn’t smiling.

 
“So you decided to come home, eh? Must be tired, are we?”

  Jay stared at her blankly.

  “You know who I saw at the bank today? Mrs. Ramirez!”

  Jay’s mind rewound back to the day’s beginning, when he and Colin had gotten balled out for playing Secret of Mana. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and he realized he was exhausted. Kathy stood up from the couch.

  “Jay Harold Banksman, it was supposed to be a birthday sleepover, not an all-night orgy of—” She froze. “Good God, what happened to your eye?!”

  Tara, a short, strong woman, had also stood. Her eyes ablaze with indignation on Jay’s behalf. He turned his face away from the two women, embarrassed.

  “Did someone hit you?”

  “Nah.”

  “Who did this? Are the Johns bothering you—”

  “Mom—” Jay interrupted. “I’m going to prom.”

  His mom slid back. “With who?”

  “Liz.”

  Kathy screamed. “Liz Knight?!”

  “Liz Knight?!” Tara repeated.

  “And she asked me. Just this afternoon.”

  “Liz Knight. Asked my son.” Kathy could hardly register it. She shrieked again, hugging Jay so hard the pressure hurt him. “Oh my God. I have to call everyone.” She pointed at Tara. “You have to call everyone.”

  Tara, who had no kids, nodded gamely. Any hint of Jay’s trouble over morning video games evaporated as Kathy bustled gleefully through their tiny kitchen.

  “Oh my God, this is a huge deal! Why is no one calling anyone?”

  “It only happened two hours ago.”

  “Yeah, but the news must come from us. I need the envy. Oh, I need the envy. C’mon let’s sing! Happy birthday to you . . .”

  Kathy disappeared into the kitchen and then rounded the corner with a green cake and eighteen candles. On its face was a crudely drawn picture of three Ninja Turtles, and the words “radical dude.” Jay blew out his candles, and then his mom handed Jay a magazine.

  “I got you something.”

  It was a Nintendo Power magazine. On the cover was Michael Keaton as Batman, and the title “Batman Returns: The Bat, The Cat, The Penguin.”

  Jay grabbed it. “No way!”

  “A yearlong subscription.”

  Jay looked up sharply.

  “Mom . . . I’m leaving after graduation, remember? To college?”

  Kathy crossed her arms in her most combative stance.

  “You really want to set foot out there? After the bombing of the World Trade Center? And that poor Rodney King?”

  “Those are two different states.”

  “What about the starving kids in Somalia, or the war in Bosnia?”

  “It’s not like I’m enlisting in the army.”

  “What about the New Kids on the Block? You want to end up dead in a plane crash like them?”

  “I’m probably safer in a plane than the Batmobile.”

  “Pfft.” But a smile was already returning to her face. She shrieked girlishly and grabbed the Garfield phone on the counter. “Oh my God, Liz Knight! Who should I call first?”

  “Congratulations, again.” Tara ducked out the door. “See you tomorrow, Kathy.”

  Jay’s buried his nose in Nintendo Power and made his way to his bedroom. A lonely smattering of posters—Cliffhanger, Terminator 2, Backdraft—adorned peeling wallpaper. The only furnishings were two bookshelves built from salvaged lumber and cinder blocks, a few large Tupperware drawers, and a bed. Since Jay couldn’t afford a computer or gaming system, he used what little space there was in his room to build a shrine to his favorite vocation. His bookshelves were devoted entirely to back issues of PC Gamer, Serious Gamer, and GamePro. Jay flung himself on the bed, gazing idly at the Heather Graham poster tacked to the ceiling above him. He looked into Heather Graham’s eyes and thought back to the events of the day, smiling. What a birthday.

  His thoughts wandered back to that game demo. The Build, it had been called. He let his Nintendo Power fall to the floor and picked up his Serious Gamer. He’d never seen any previews for a game called The Build. Who made it? There were no publisher logos on the load screen. He flipped through the magazine, looking over its glossy pages for a write-up that would explain the disk. But there was nothing. He lay back in bed, thinking. Even a third-rate SimCity might still have some mileage. He should really give it another shot. He smiled and closed his eyes. It had been a good birthday after all.

  Liz Wiped

  The next morning, Jay and Colin stood huddled under the school library awning, lost in conversation. The library rounded like a large yurt, overlooking both A-Court and C-Court from a knobbed hill. They could watch the students bustling to and from class, keep tabs on the Johns, and, on this particular day, allow Jay to gauge the effect of his prom date on the student body. As Jay spoke, he kept one eye on the kids passing by, waiting for someone to glance in his direction and recognize him as the Guy Going With Liz. He was watching so intently, he jumped when a sudden, sharp voice barked over his shoulder.

  “We’re organizing a search party for Todd this weekend.”

  Jay spun around. Ms. Rotchkey stood before the library doors as they banged open and kids poured out. Ms. Rotchkey waited with her hands on her hips. Jay felt his cheeks color in embarrassment. With everything that had happened with Liz, he’d all but forgotten about Todd. Now Todd’s absence came rushing back, and he felt sick to his stomach that nearly twenty-four hours had passed and he’d yet to do anything to help.

  “Oh, that’s great,” he replied.

  “Can I count on your help?”

  “Yes.”

  “Anything you need,” Colin said.

  Ms. Rotchkey nodded, then turned to the next group of kids.

  When the two of them were alone again, Jay lowered his voice and returned to their conversation.

  “Please?”

  Colin shook his head. “Have you seen your face?”

  Jay had spent the morning staring into his mirror. Though the swelling had gone down, the ring around his eye had turned an ugly purple.

  “She needs to know I’m not scared.”

  “You should be scared,” Colin snorted.

  “I need A-Court to see me.” Jay grabbed Colin’s sleeve and guided him down the steps.

  Jay had an ulterior motive for heading back to A-Court. He hadn’t received the reaction he’d been expecting that morning. He’d pictured handshakes of congratulations, a slow clap, maybe even an invitation to hang out in A-Court. But so far, none of the kids shuffling back and forth between buildings had even looked at him. He wanted a show.

  Jay pushed open the doors and strutted past a corridor of lockers covered in pictures of Cindy Crawford and Marky Mark, continuing to pull a reluctant Colin toward A-Court. They passed the main office, and just as they were nearing the front entrance, the doors banged open. High-pitched yells filled the cavernous hall. A-Court quieted, and every head turned to look at the interruption.

  “Get your hands off me!”

  Sheriff Jenkins stood just inside the doorway, breathing heavily, his face purple. He wore aviator sunglasses, and his mouth was shrunk into a thin line. Tugging furiously to get away from him was Liz Knight. Sheriff Jenkins had her hands clasped behind her back, and she writhed, straining painfully, her arms bending at awkward angles. Her hair fell across her face, but Jay could still see her mouth twisted in a snarl. She was doing more than just protesting her treatment: she was struggling like an animal, as if she were fighting for her very life.

  The A-Court boom box was blasting Aerosmith’s “Livin’ on the Edge,” but somebody quickly shut it off. Now the entire hall was quiet, except for the squeak of Liz’s sneakers, and her grunts and snarls as she tried to get away. A sophomore boy next to Jay muttered, “Must be that time of the month.” Nobody laughed. />
  Ms. Shirell stared frozen, mouth open, before she turned and huffed off to fetch Principal Oatman. Liz suddenly stopped struggling. She seemed to realize she was no longer outside, and her eyes lifted to take in the lockers, the vaulted ceiling that merged into a skylight at the pinnacle of A-Court, and then finally to the wall of students silently studying her. Her gaze darted around the room, registering the details with mounting horror.

  The door to the administrator’s office opened and Principal Oatman stepped out. Liz’s head whipped around.

  “Principal . . . Oatman?”

  Principal Oatman nodded acknowledgment. “Liz. What’s this?”

  Elmer relaxed a little, but looked suspiciously at Liz, as if he expected her to resume her fight at any moment. “I found her lying on the shoulder of Main Street.”

  Mr. Oatman stared at Liz. “Is she hurt?”

  “Not that I can tell. She was . . .” He looked uncomfortable. “She was sobbing and sorta . . . screaming at the top of her lungs.”

  Jay elbowed his way through the students to hear better.

  “I stopped to ask if she was okay, and she tried to run. I caught her, and she’s been fighting me tooth and nail ever since.”

  “Well, maybe we take off those handcuffs.”

  Elmer shook his head. “If I do that, she’ll run.”

  Liz gulped a sob and dropped to her knees. Mascara tears streaked her cheeks. Jay’s mind flashed through the terrible possibilities: Had somebody died? Or had she found Todd?

  Strange gurgling noises were starting to come from Liz’s mouth. Oatman fidgeted, increasingly uncomfortable.

  “Take her home to her parents!”

  “I called her parents. They’re meeting us here.”

  Before Mr. Oatman could object, a gray shape approached the glass doors. A tall, tired-looking man with gray hair rushed through the door. Jay recognized Terry Knight, Liz’s dad. He rushed to Liz, his arms wide. But as Liz turned to him, she shrieked in terror, falling to the ground and scooting away, until her back was pressed against the locker. New tears flowed down her face.