by Lori Lapekes
After introductions were complete, Daniel continued. “We’ve been playing a lot of gigs out of state in the past weeks, but it’s always best to come back here to where we started. Here. East Lansing. Our hometown. Our home.”
With that, the crowd was on its feet and the band plunged into another song. It wasn’t as loud as the first or as soft as the second, but a pleasant, easy listening tune. People began to flood the dance floor. Catherine nervously ran her fingers through her hair, stirring with too many emotions to sort out what they were just yet. She took the coat off her shoulders and hung it on the rail, then lovingly tucked Daniel’s scarf all the way into her purse and closed it. Then a hand tapped her on the shoulder. She sighed. It was probably Beth, or Penny, wondering why she’d left earlier. She turned.
And gasped.
The tall man’s eyes sparkled like a cat’s. He raised his eyebrows. “Surprised, Cathy?”
“Calvin!” she sputtered. How had he gotten here?
“I came to see you at ol’ Moo-U. Drove hundreds of miles.”
Catherine’s heart sank, not only from the derogatory nick-name of the college, but the disgusting man himself. “Were you the one who came to my house earlier today?”
“Yes. Since you weren’t home, I thought it might be fun to meet in a place like this so we could dance, have a few drinks, get to know each other again.”
Catherine spun around in disgust to lean on the rail. Fun? Here? How obvious he never really knew her at all! She couldn’t believe it. Unbelievable. Cave-Pig was here!
He moved in closer to speak to her, his breath hot in her ear. “I broke up with Debra. We parted for good. I never should have let her get her hooks into me in the first place.”
Catherine clenched her eyes shut and covered her ears with her hands. She didn’t need to hear this…
Calvin pulled her hands away from her ears. Her arms stiffened, wanting to spring back into place. Calvin’s grip became rougher. A knot of fear grew inside of her. He had never been this rough before. Then she noticed the alcohol on his breath.
“I should never have left you,” he was saying. “It was the biggest mistake of my life. Everything went bad after we parted, I lost my job, the apartment, Debra, all because I missed you so much!”
Catherine opened her eyes. “What do you mean you left me? Didn’t that love letter from Debra, that I found and folded up in your ham sandwich, part any clouds in your brain?”
Calvin loosened the grip on Catherine’s arms. He chuckled slightly, recalling the incident. “That was a great trick. You and old lady Vanhoofstryver are quite a pair to cook that one up. My friends and I laughed over that stunt for days.”
She spun to face him. “You laughed over it?”
“Well, it was funny. You didn’t mean to embarrass me, did you? You wouldn’t do a thing like that deliberately. You’re too sweet. Unlike that witch, Debra.”
“You make me sick.” Catherine groaned. “To think, I was once afraid of you. The only reason you’re here now is because Debra wised up and left you. She wasn’t stupid enough to coddle you like I used to. You drove a long way for nothing, Mr. Prigg. Now get out of my way,” she added, clutching her coat and purse, “I’m leaving!”
“Cathy. Cathy!” He shouted, clutching her by the shoulders. The sudden pleading look on the face she once thought so handsome was sickening. “Please talk to me,” he blubbered, “that’s all I’m asking. I’ve changed.”
Catherine turned her head, nauseated by his alcohol-drenched breath as well as the actual words. Did he believe she was as naïve as she used to be?
“Leave me alone,” she said.
“I can’t, I need you. I really do! I’ve rented an apartment in town today, just so I can be close to you. We can make it together, we…”
“You rented an apartment, here?”
“Yes!” he said, once again gripping her shoulders hard enough to make her squirm. People around them began to watch the confrontation, but Catherine was too flabbergasted to notice.
“I can’t make it without you, I see that now. Don’t you understand how far I’ve come, not only the drive, but personally?”
His grip tightened. Burned her skin. His eyes held such a wild look that Catherine wrenched out of his grip, took a step backward, and slammed her purse against his arm. “I said leave me alone!”
Slowly, Calvin stood back. And straightened. He towered over her. His eyes went strange, cold, like a shark’s.
Catherine saw him take a deep breath, watched the stripes on this shirt widen as he inhaled. Before she could move, before she could process what was about to happen, Calvin pulled back his arm and slapped her across the face. Gasping, she raised a hand to her cheek, her eyes watering.
He’d actually hit her!
A hush fell over the crowd. She was too shocked to notice the music had stopped, and that someone was pushing through the crowd. That someone lunged at Calvin with a fist that caught him in the jaw and sent him reeling backward against a rail near the beer vats. He fell, then the two men were thrashing on the floor. One was Calvin, the other, horrifically was Daniel.
She put her hands over her mouth. “Daniel!” she wailed, “Stop it, he’s crazy, he’s drunk!” But before she could stand her ground, people pushed in toward the two men and she was shoved out of the circle of spectators. From the shouts of the crowd, it soon appeared Daniel was getting the worst of it. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Daniel was an artist, not a fighter! Especially not with a jerk who wasn’t even worthy of Daniel’s elegant fist in his face.
With a mighty groan, Catherine managed to barrel her way into the crowd until she had a front line view of the fight. Calvin had Daniel pushed to the floor, his knees pressed into his chest, pounding Daniel’s face with his fists. Screaming, Catherine sprung on Calvin’s back and drove her fingernails into his eyes. He wailed in pain and straightened, reaching back to grapple for her. Before he could grab hold, Daniel squirmed out from beneath him, twisted, and drove a boot-heel into his mouth. Catherine lost her grip and was shaken off, but just as she readied to plunge in again someone was clutching her shoulders, pinning her back. She turned to see who it was.
“Joey!” she wailed. “Help us!”
Although Joey was gangly, he was powerful. He released her, and stepped calmly into the fight. With an enormous hand he snatched Calvin by the shirt collar and lifted him to his feet. Calvin trembled in fury, his face mottled in streams of red. He swore and shouted as Joey and a bouncer shoved him though the crowd toward the exit.
“This isn’t the end of this!” Calvin called back as Joey pushed him outside and slammed the door shut.
Catherine put her hands over her face and collapsed next to Daniel. He drew himself into a sitting position and stared at her. Just stared. At last Catherine flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his hair. Then he wrapped his arms around her. Catherine looked up once to find Beth standing there, her eyes glimmering in shock and fury then she forgot about her roommate the rest of the evening.
****
Dear Catherine,
I apologize for not writing sooner, but it seems I’ve sprained my wrist. Nothing to worry about, just a household accident, but if this letter seems messy, then that is why.
It thrills me to see you doing well in your studies. I have believed in you since I first saw you. Let no one stand in your way. This Daniel character may seem wonderful at first, but keep a close eye on him. Men can be vipers! They can sink their fangs in and leave you to die.
I’m feeling my age these days. I don’t quite have the pluck I used to. I think the cats have noticed, too, and go out of their way to rub against my legs or sit with me when I’m tired. Sometimes I wish you were here to talk with, but this is not a good house to visit. Someday I will find the courage to explain. Maybe I’ll be free to visit you in late spring. That would be the high point of all my years. You’re like a daughter to me. I may seem like a cantankerous old toad to most people,
and I am a cantankerous old toad to most people. I have decided to show you otherwise…
As Hazel poised her pen to write the next word, a terrific banging vibrated on the floorboards above her head. The pounding continued, louder and louder, until pictures rattled on the walls. She jumped as a sepia-toned photo of her and her mother popped off the wall above her, bounced off a mahogany desk, then crashed to the floor and shattered.
She gasped and thrust her good left hand against her heart as she groped for the door. What would happen next? Hopefully one of the cats hadn’t innocently crept into Eugene’s room, for there was no longer a compassionate veterinary assistant like Catherine in town to aid in the healing of a feline’s crushed head. Hazel felt badly that she hadn’t told Catherine the truth about what happened to poor Cinder that day long ago, or what had happened to her own wrist the next day for that matter. One day, she would remedy that mistake. As soon as this was all over.
Above, Eugene continued to thrash on the floorboards, and a wail of obscenities could be heard over the pounding. Hazel scurried up the stairway.
Chapter Four
Catherine couldn’t understand why Daniel drove such a dilapidated van if his band was doing so well. He explained that the turquoise monolith, nick-named Bruiser, was like a buddy to him. Even for a van, Bruiser was great on snow and ice, and besides, Daniel had gotten it as a trade-in for a classic guitar ten years ago.
She studied his profile as he drove through the inky darkness that night, hoping her staring was inconspicuous as they bounced along a rutted country road flanked by evergreens. He was silent, smiling to himself, at peace. The faint glow from the dashboard lights made Daniel’s coppery eyes shine in the dark like new pennies. He must have sensed her staring, for he glanced silently at her, winked, and turned back toward the road.
Catherine couldn’t remember feeling as full of wonder as she did now, in Daniel’s presence. So many people had skimmed through her life without touching her in any real way – without truly connecting. People she could spend two hours walking down a street with and still feel she was walking alone.
But everything about Daniel was different.
Feeling dreamy, her eyes grew heavy. She longed to rest her head on his shoulder, and smiled at the irony of that thought. Two weeks ago the idea of resting her head on anyone’s shoulder would have been unimaginable. Not anymore. Daniel was such a paradox. She thought of the energy and excitement he created on stage, compared to his peaceful, contemplative nature now. But then, maybe he wasn’t such a paradox after all. She’d listened closely to the lyrics he’d written. Some conveyed peace and harmony, others fear and questioning. It was message music, often speaking of God, although the band was not openly promoted as a Christian group. Daniel’s voice was elastic and beautiful. No wonder both Beth and Penny were drawn to him. Catherine herself had spent much of the night standing next to Joey at the soundboard, her eyes glued on Daniel’s overwhelming stage presence.
After the fight, it’d been a wonder he’d wanted to complete the show at all. Both she and Joey had tried to talk him out of it, but Daniel was stubborn, bruised and battered or not. And so the band had gone on, playing to even louder cheers than before.
Daniel, as Joey had said, really was an epitome.
The screaming of brakes yanked Catherine from her slumber. Her eyes snapped open as her seatbelt tightened, sparing her from hitting the windshield. She braced herself as the van spun in a circle in the middle of the road. Shadowy forms of trees, fences, signs…and a vague human form whirled in the headlights. Once…twice…then the forms slowed as the van skidded against a tree trunk with a thud. She gasped and clutched her arms against her stomach, fighting not to vomit. She was about to turn to see how Daniel had fared from the spinout when a figure lurched into the headlights. Then the man in the road stopped, and gazed straight through the windshield at her.
The man was Daniel.
What?
Catherine’s breath caught in her throat. How could it be Daniel? He was sitting right next to her! Stiffened in terror, she turned to look at the driver with almost glacial slowness to find a grizzly skull staring at her from inside Daniel’s clothes. From this abomination seeped an aura of misery so complete that a scream rose in her throat…
…and a door heaved open from someplace beyond.
Out of the darkness a bare-chested figure raced to Catherine’s side, a knife gleaming in his hand. Reality took focus as Catherine stopped screaming and pulled her hands to her mouth.
“What’s wrong is Calvin here?” the man yelled, glancing around the room for an intruder.
Catherine shook her head, opening and shutting her eyes. It took a few moments for reality to settle in. She wasn’t in a van; she was sitting up in a bed in the dark in a spare bedroom in Daniel’s house. She felt her cheeks redden with embarrassment.
“It was just a dream,” she murmured.
Ever so slowly, Daniel lowered the knife. He looked comical silhouetted against a hallway light with his hair bunched up around his face and pieces of down clinging to the strands. Catherine looked away, forcing back a grin as she then noticed that Daniel had pulled his shorts on backward. He looked confused, then glanced down at himself. Then he looked up with a sheepish expression and pointed a finger in the air. “Excuse me for a moment,” he said, backing out of the door.
Catherine sighed, shoulders slumping, and rested against the headboard. What a dream that was. Thank goodness it was only a dream. The rawness of the nightmare dissolved into fragments by the time Daniel sauntered back into the room.
“Which was the worst nightmare,” he asked, sitting near her on the edge of the bed, “your dream, or seeing me race in here looking like a dufus?”
Catherine lowered her eyes, trying not to chuckle. Daniel tipped her chin with his finger. “You don’t have to answer,” he said, “I’m just glad you’re all right.” He paused, then, “Do you want to talk about the dream? Was it about your old boyfriend?”
“No. I dreamed we had an accident in your van,” she said. “We almost hit someone in the road. I knew you were driving, but the guy we almost hit was also you.” She shuddered as some of the dream’s horror returned. It was a struggle to force the last part out of her lips. “When I turned to look at you in the driver’s seat, there was a monster sitting in your place.”
Daniel’s hand lowered from her chin. He clasped his fingers together on his lap, and raised his eyebrows.
“That was a hum-dinger.” he said.
Hum-dinger? Catherine thought. Who said words like that nowadays? Daniel was growing more interesting by the moment. “I don’t know why I dreamed such an awful thing,” she finally replied. “I never have nightmares. Maybe it’s from sleeping in a strange place, or maybe its because of the scare Calvin gave me.”
“Did the monster look like Calvin?” Daniel asked.
Catherine shook her head, then paused, adding carefully, “No. I got the feeling it was you.” A chill crept down her spine as she remembered the misery that had seeped out of the creature, and dread filled her again. Daniel noticed the goose bumps forming on her arms, and gently pulled the covers over her.
“Dreams can be something, can’t they?” he asked. He settled back down on the bed next to her. “Sometimes you can go back and pick out one of the day’s events that triggered them. Maybe you dreamed I was a monster because of my bruised face.”
Catherine nodded. “That’s probably it.” She decided not to tell Daniel that her ‘monster’ had actually been a skull… and of the feeling of death and despair. That she would keep to herself.
“How do you feel?” she asked, longing to reach out and trace his battered face.
He smiled. “Stiff and sore, but I’m fine. Your friend packs a wallop. How is your cheek?”
“I can barely feel it where he hit me.”
“Good.” A vague fire glimmered in Daniel’s eyes as he clenched his fingers into fists, “I still can’t believe he hit y
ou. I know we talked about it a little on the way here,” he added hesitantly, “but, did I hear you say that this Calvin guy…”
“Better known as Cave Pig.”
“All right. That fits. That this ‘Cave Pig’ came all of the way from Maryland to see you, and that he lives here now?”
Catherine tensed, felt her stomach clutch. It was hard to admit, even to herself, that she was connected with such a weirdo, especially now that he was a dangerous weirdo. But it was nice of Daniel to take her to his home, she’d been so afraid Calvin would return to her house last night to get revenge. But would Daniel want anything to do with her after this? Ever so slowly though, she nodded. “I think he lives in the area someplace. He said he rented an apartment in town. Drove hundreds of miles to see me,” she added, imitating his haughty voice.
Daniel looked at her steadily. “You’re worth it.”
Catherine blushed.
Daniel peered closer at her, and the puzzled look on his face transformed into a kind of wonder. “I like to see a lady blush,” he said. “Most have no sense of modesty these days.”
Catherine pulled her blankets lower, secretly savoring the compliment. It was time to voice something which had been puzzling her. “There is something I don’t understand,” she said hesitantly, “Look what you do for a living. The kind of women most bands attract, well, aren’t usually the kind I think you’re trying to reach.”
He looked at her directly, but his voice was so low she could barely hear it. “It’s never been my plan to attract groupies. That’s not what my band is reaching for.”
She remained silent, listening closely.
“Most rock and roll bands give off subliminal messages. Sometimes they’re intentional, sometimes not,” Daniel continued, a distant look in his eyes. “Sometimes subliminal messages evoke violence and confusion, though, and I want to balance that out with a positive message. It’s tricky. You can’t be preachy, or you’ll scare off the exact people you want to reach. But once you get them to listen, you can try to hold onto them, plant good seeds in them. As they hopefully begin to feel better about the world, and about themselves, they become searchers. Then all we do is pray they’ll listen and think more. It takes time. Music is a tool.”