Writing on the Wall

by Christopher Cleary

  “But its only light is what it reflects.”

  “That’s important, though.”

  She rolled toward him. “I bet it wishes it was a star.”

  “I bet that it’s content with revolving around the Earth.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I know I am.”

  She closed her eyes. “This is comfortable. You know, being able to lie down? We should get a mattress for Unit #143.”

  “Yeah. It’d be a comfortable option, that’s for sure.”

  “Yeah.”

  Everything was so tranquil that they dozed off.

  A little later, Donnie woke and nudged Megan. “What time is it?” he asked her.

  She felt groggy and didn’t want to get up from the comfort of his body but managed to drag herself to the van. She turned the key halfway until the digital clock turned on.

  “Holy shit!” She screamed, now wide awake. “It’s almost four!”

  Donnie jumped up, grabbing the blanket, book, and light. Later he would feel bad about leaving their empty soda cans behind, but in the moment, he knew they had to get a move on.

  TWENTY

  Donnie was accurate in proclaiming that he would be able to get them home with the use of a map. Problems arose when they discovered that the van did not have a map in it.

  It took over half an hour of driving around to figure out where they were. Once they did, Donnie informed Megan that they were even farther away from home than where they were when they fell asleep.

  “Oh, that’s just great,” she responded.

  “Are you in trouble?”

  “I imagine so.”

  “Slow down.”

  Megan was speeding along the vacant roads.

  “Easy for you to say,” she said. “Your mom is at work.”

  “Yeah, but I’ll tell her anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “It was an accident. We didn’t mean to come home this late. She’ll understand.” Or not care, he thought.

  “Bizarre.”

  They pulled into Megan’s driveway a little after 6:00 A.M. The lights were on inside her house.

  Her tone was calm and even, “I’m so dead.”

  “See you tomorrow?”

  “I seriously doubt you’ll see me before school on Monday.”

  Donnie smiled. For some reason, it was humorous to him. “Good luck.”

  “It’s not funny.”

  “Right.” He got out of the car.

  She pulled into the garage.

  Her father was eating a bowl of cereal at the kitchen table and her mother had a cup of coffee in front of her.

  Megan set the car keys down on the table. “I’m sorry.”

  Her father stood and when he did, he became a very intimidating man. “Explain where you have been,” he demanded.

  “I was out with Donnie. We lost track of time…”

  “Lost track of time! How do you lose track of time seven hours past curfew? Explain that to me!”

  “We just did.”

  Her mother’s voice was tender yet stern, “We’ve been worrying about you. We didn’t know where you were or what you were doing…”

  Her father interrupted, “Exactly what were you doing? You aren’t just a few minutes late. You’re several hours late!”

  “Donnie… He… We were…” She didn’t know what to say or how to explain. Stumbling over her words made her appear guilty even though she committed no crime other than being out past curfew.

  “Come here! I want to smell your breath.”

  “Dad…”

  “Come’ere!”

  She walked directly to him and breathed on his face. The scent of alcohol was absent. Taking hold of her chin, he forced her head up so he could look into her eyes.

  “Why are your eyes red?” he wanted to know.

  “She’s probably tired,” Megan’s mom offered.

  “I’m really sorry…” Megan just wanted it to be over. She wanted to go to bed and wake up to a new day. Everything was perfect just a few hours ago. The clear night sky, the quarter moon, Donnie – everything. Her dad was ruining it. He was making her feel like a teenager again.

  “When you left the house with our car, where did you go?”

  She had never seen him so angry; furthermore, this was the most dialogue she had had with him in weeks, which made it depressing.

  “I took the van…” Megan was trying not to cry.

  “I know that part! I want to know every detail. Tell me step by step where you’ve been and what you did!”

  “I don’t know.” Her solitary tear didn’t soften her father’s attitude one bit.

  “Think!”

  “OK, ok, ok… I picked up Donnie at the driving range. He put his clubs in the van…”

  “I thought you told me that he didn’t have clubs!”

  Megan whimpered, “He didn’t. He just got them. Today… er, yesterday… Dirt gave them to him as a gift.”

  “Who?”

  “Dirt. He owns the driving range.”

  “I didn’t see Donnie with them when he got out of the van.”

  She spoke as if she were pleading for her life, “They’re still in the van.”

  Her father breathed heavily in and out of his nose. “Empty your pockets.”

  “There’s nothing in them,” she sobbed.

  “Where’s your purse?”

  “She doesn’t have one,” her mother told him.

  “Where do you keep your license?” he barked.

  Megan held up her wallet.

  “Empty it,” he ordered. “Empty everything out of your pocketbook on the table.”

  Her voice was nearly inaudible, “Dad, there’s nothing…”

  His face formed an angry frown that prompted Megan to quickly empty its contents. No suspicious materials were found.

  “Pick up that phone. Call Donnie. Tell him to be here in one hour. We’re going golfing!”

  “But dad…”

  He slammed his hand down flat on the table. It rattled and the contents of Megan’s purse bounced everywhere. “Do it!”

  Timidly, she retrieved the cordless phone from its receiver and began punching in Donnie’s phone number.

  Megan’s mom said to her father, “Let’s get her a cell phone…”

  “Nonsense!” he disagreed. “I will not give her a cell phone so she can yak on it all day and arrange secret rendezvous with her friends. She needs to learn and exercise good ol’ fashioned responsibility first and foremost.”

  Donnie answered the phone. He greeted her with a sleepy, “Hello,” and a yawn. He had already fallen asleep. Megan was jealous.

  “Donnie?” Megan mumbled, trying to compose herself the best she could.

  “Who else would it be?” he said. He was, after all, the only guy who lived in the house.

  She wiped the tears away and tried hard to steady her voice. “My dad would like to play a round of golf with you.”

  The cobwebs were beginning to clear from his head. “Oh geez, the golf clubs. I left them in your car.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sure, I guess I have to.”

  “Yeah. Um,” she turned away from her parents, “he’d like for you to come over in an hour.”

  “To golf?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Tell him I have to work.”

  She turned around to pass the message on to her father. His hardened mug showed that no excuse would be acceptable.

  “No,” Megan said. “I think you better come over in an hour.”

  Donnie exhaled and collapsed back on his bed. “All right.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Every student in Haviland High dreaded that first day back to school until they got there. It was a giant reunion and a new start for those looking for a better school year than the last. They got to explore new classrooms and subjects with different teachers and students. Everyone was happy to see al
l of their friends and how they had or hadn’t changed over the summer.

  Mr. Priddy wanted to ground Megan until Christmas, but her mom intervened and she received a lenient ten days instead. During her grounding, Megan was not permitted to use the television, stereo, or computer. She almost wished for homework on that first day just so she had something to do. As part of her grounding, she was not permitted to walk to or from school. Her mother drove her both ways.

  That prevented her from seeing Donnie until third period. They were in the same Chemistry class. It was the first chance they got to talk about the weekend’s fiasco.

  “What did my dad do to you?” Megan asked.

  “What did he tell you?” All weekend long, he watched the Priddy house for signs of life. He was interested to know what was going on inside of it.

  “He didn’t say anything about it. He’s hardly spoken to me at all. Well? Did you guys really go golfing? What happened out there?”

  “I’m a crappy putter.”

  “Donnie!” She puffed. “I mean with my dad.”

  “He was pretty good except for the par three, seventh. I birdied. He like bogeyed or double bogeyed.”

  Megan stared at him with a blank expression, her mini-version of the silent treatment.

  Donnie gave up his act of suspense. “I don’t really know what happened. I mean… He paid for me to play a round of golf on his fancy-pants course so we could discuss ‘business’.”

  “‘Business’?”

  “Yeah. You’re probably unaware of it, but your dad and I have several business transactions pending. Afterwards, we discussed them with the boys over scotch and cigars.”

  “Really?”

  “No, not really. When did you get so gullible? You must be going stir crazy over there.”

  “You have no idea.”

  Donnie slid his backpack off. “He talked about your sister for some reason or another and then he made an analogy to me being a predator… I’m not sure. I think that he wanted to sound threatening, but it was more confusing than anything.”

  “What does Kara have to do with it? Why was he talking about her?”

  “He never really said. After I sank my sand shot on the seventh, he was in an even worse mood than when we started.”

  Megan greeted one of her friends who sat down on the other side of her. When she was done, she informed Donnie that she was under house arrest.

  “For ten days,” he replied.

  “He told you?”

  “Yup.”

  “I’ve also lost driving privileges indefinitely.” That was Megan’s mom’s compromise with her dad for the shortened sentence.

  The late bell rang and they sat down next to each other. Five minutes later, the teacher handed out assigned seats and they were two rows apart.

  After class, they reunited. Both of them were headed to study hall. They compared schedules to see if they shared any other classes after that, but they did not. Two was better than zero and zero was how many they shared the previous year.

  On their way down the hall, Donnie showed her a notebook. The black cover was crinkled with white creases and the corners were tattered. “This one here…,” he said before losing his voice. It was the first time he held that notebook in quite a while. “I… um, I know that you must be bored over there so… And I didn’t want you to forget me… This notebook…” He pulled her aside and waited for the foot traffic to die down. “This is the notebook I was using when my dad…” Then he couldn’t say it. He thought that he would be able to detach himself from the tragedy long enough to get it out, but he struggled. The weight of the notebook was too much.

  Donnie leveled his eyes at Megan. Her soft face was inviting. Reflected in it was the sorrow that he felt but not the helplessness. Megan knew that she didn’t fully understand his misfortunes, but that wasn’t going to keep her from listening and waiting to see how she could be what he needed. Donnie’s stoic toughness began to give. His lips started to quiver. He missed having a father.

  “It’s all right,” Megan said with eyes that were ready to cry on his behalf. “I get it.”

  Donnie swallowed. “This is the first notebook,” he explained. “It’s me. How I felt. Who I am. I don’t read it. I don’t even open it. But… I thought that you…”

  “I’d love to read it.”

  He began to ramble. “I don’t know what’s in it or if it’s any good or if it makes sense…”

  “Donnie, it doesn’t matter.” She tried to keep the conversation light. “Hey, I’m grounded. Like you said, I’m bored out of my mind. I’ll read anything.”

  He nodded, “Yeah, OK,” and reluctantly relinquished the notebook.

  Megan immediately slipped it into her satchel. She lightly touched his forearm. They were late for study hall.

  During lunch on that first day back, friends reunited and discussed the summer’s developments. They also immediately started putting together plans for weekend activities.

  “We should all go to the movies Friday,” Sada announced to her table.

  “Absolutely,” Alyssa, the outcast cheerleader agreed. The only reason she was on the squad was because she was tiny and easy to toss into the air. “But we also need to go somewhere where there’ll be fun.”

  “You mean boys?” Megan said.

  “Boys. Fun. Fun. Boys,” Alyssa said. “It’s all the same thing. I know the football team will be bowling at Ubu Lanes on Friday.”

  “The football team?” Sada said without hiding any disgust. “Gag.”

  “C’mon. Admit it. Some of them are at least fun to look at.”

  “A few,” Sada conceded. “What’s Donnie doing on Friday, Megan? Let’s hang out with him and a few of his friends. A summer tan worked wonders for that boy.”

  “I can’t go,” Megan said.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m sentenced to ten days of house arrest.”

  “No way!” Alyssa said.

  It was the first time that Megan had ever been grounded and the other seven girls at the table wanted to know what offense she committed to land herself in the halfway house.

  “What did you do?” Sada asked, when Megan didn’t immediately offer it up.

  It didn’t feel right taking their relationship public, but now that school was back in session, it would become nearly impossible to keep it a secret. “I was making out with Donnie Betts, fell asleep, and didn’t get home until like six in the morning.”

  It was fresh ink for the high school tabloids. Every girl stared at her, dumbfounded. Then, simultaneously, all of them looked a few tables down to Donnie.

  Dale, still with his cheesy mustache, never missed something like this. “That whole table of girls just looked at us.”

  Donnie glanced over his shoulder. Every girl there diligently resumed eating their lunch.

  “They all just looked away when you looked,” Dale said, worried that Donnie wouldn’t believe him. “Who do you think they’re looking at?”

  Donnie shrugged and opened his carton of milk.

  Dale leaned back on the hind two legs of his chair and examined them. “Hey, some of them are looking pretty good. Sada’s wearing less black make-up, Alyssa perked up, you know?… Everyone over there is looking a little hotter… ‘Cept Priddy, she got a little thicker in the thighs. Too much Friendly’s for that chick.”

  Dale’s comment caught Donnie on a day when his emotions were floating close to the surface. It reminded him too much of the guilt, embarrassment, and disgrace that he felt with his dad’s suicide. Shame burst out of Donnie like steam through the layer of skin on boiling milk. He turned angry at his father for being a coward instead of a hero.

  Donnie made two movements and they were both swift. He was holding his milk in his right hand. He half dumped, half tossed it on Dale. Dale’s chair began tilting back down to all four legs. With the same hand that held the milk, Donnie made a fist, reached out with his long arm, and popped him in the mouth.

 
; Dale’s chair fell over backwards and he crashed to the floor. He didn’t get up. There was no fight.

  Everyone stopped and looked. No one would have guessed that it was Donnie Betts who laid him out. And no one knew how to react because it was Donnie Betts.

  The only movement in the cafeteria was the slow tears that trickled down Donnie’s cheeks.

  TWENTY-TWO

  With Megan grounded and Donnie suspended from school for fighting, they didn’t get to see each other for the rest of the week. Even though Megan was the one who had the benefit of interaction with the other kids at school, she was the one who felt lonely.

  Donnie enjoyed his solitude. He valued time away from school. He hadn’t mentally prepared for that first day back and he needed to regroup and collect his thoughts. It wasn’t like him to let his emotions get the best of him and create a scene. If Megan wasn’t grounded, he would have felt bad for missing out on time with her at Unit #143. As it were, all he was missing out on was school, and he didn’t miss it much.

  Getting confused from having so many days off, Donnie went to the driving range at ten o’clock Friday morning instead of Saturday.

  He was greeted by Dirt and his ear hair with a curt, “What are you doing here?”

  Donnie stopped walking and looked at Dirt as if he were the crazy one.

  “Didn’t school start?” Dirt asked.

  “Yeah,” Donnie answered. “What day is it?”

  “Friday, kid! You better get on over to Haviland High.”

  Donnie pulled the baseball helmet down over his Pirate’s hat and picked up his scoop. “I’ve been suspended.”

  “Suspended?” Dirt was skeptical. Donnie didn’t seem capable of being suspended. “What did you do?”

  “Fighting.”

  “You don’t look beat up.”

  “There was only one punch.”

  “You knocked him out?”

  “Down for the count.” Donnie wasn’t bragging, just conveying what had happened.

  “You’re taller in inches than you are heavy in pounds. Who were you fighting? Elmo?”

  Donnie shrugged.

  Dirt smiled. “He said something about that girl of yours, didn’t he?”

  When Donnie didn’t reply, Dirt laughed and walked to the recesses of the shack. Donnie went out to collect golf balls.