Inferno

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Inferno Page 11

by Robin Stevenson


  “Just a guy,” I tell her.

  “Boyfriend?”

  “No.” I take a deep breath. “Um, so about your group? I’ll think about it.”

  After school I go for a long, long run. Mom approves of exercise, so it’s one of the few things I’m allowed to do when I’m grounded. I run down Willow Terrace to Oak Place, turn onto Maple and then run all the way along Lilac Avenue. I run past the driveways with their suvs, past the double and triple garages, past the kids playing street hockey and riding their bikes in aimless circles, past the emptied and neatly inverted recycling boxes waiting to be taken inside when everyone comes home from work. I run my usual six-mile route, but I don’t want to stop. I run right past my house, run until my chest is bursting and my legs are screaming to stop.

  I finally stagger to a halt at a small playground overlooking the highway. A couple of kids eye me curiously, their half-melted Popsicles dripping orange and purple ooze onto the grass. I’m breathing hard and I bet my face is bright red. I ignore the kids and climb to the top of an empty aluminum climbing frame, where I sit at the top of the red plastic slide with my legs hanging down. I should stretch, but I don’t. I just sit and concentrate on the feel of my heart beating.

  Slowly, the kids trickle away, called back to their houses by the smells of dinner. The sun slips from the sky and disappears behind the rows of houses, and the sky turns from blue to dark gray. Down on the highway, cars turn on their headlights, and all around me, suvs pull into driveways and lights go on in living rooms. Even here, with the lawns mowed within an inch of their lives and the swimming pool filters buzzing like a chorus of crickets, the world has its own weird beauty.

  I should go home, but I sit for a few minutes longer, drumming my heels against the plastic slide and listening to the hollow thudding noise they make. Thumpety-thump. Like my heart beating.

  I sit for a moment, poised on the top of the slide; then I push off, flying down to land on my feet in the sand below.

  Climbing the wall at Central would border on suicidal.

  When I get home, Mom’s waiting in the kitchen, looking pissed off.

  “I went for a run,” I say quickly.

  “For two hours?”

  “Yeah, actually.”

  She just looks at me.

  “I did. I swear.”

  She keeps staring at me, all suspicious. I grab a glass from the cupboard and notice that my hand is trembling. I pour a glass of water from the tap, drink it fast and refill it.

  “There’s filtered water in the fridge, you know.” She sounds annoyed.

  “Whatever.” I drink a second glass; then I turn to go up to my room. “I have to make a call.”

  “No phone calls from your room,” she says automatically. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re grounded.”

  I groan. “Mom...It’s important.”

  “Then call from the kitchen. Two minutes.” She points to the phone.

  Like I can have this conversation in front of her. But maybe I can figure out a way to tell Parker and the others that I need to talk to them. I pick up the phone and dial Leo’s cell number.

  The voice mail picks up. Leo’s voice. “Leave a message if you want to and I’ll call you back if I want to.”

  “Hi,” I say, thinking fast. “It’s Dante. I guess you’re not there, so I’ll see you tomorrow at school. If I don’t see you before homeroom, I’ll meet you at lunchtime by the main doors.” I hang up and look at my mother. “There. Satisfied?”

  “Who was that?”

  “No one. A machine.”

  “I gathered that. Whose machine?”

  “Jeez, Mom. Can’t I have any privacy?”

  She purses her mouth tightly, the skin wrinkling in tiny vertical creases. “Not if I can’t trust you to tell me the truth.”

  “Fine,” I say. “It was Linnea. A girl from school.”

  “Oh. Well. Good.” She tilts her head to one side. “A new friend?”

  “Sort of. Not really. I’ve known her for a while.” I have a fleeting urge to tell Mom that Linnea’s a total stoner who wants me to get involved with this queer group she’s starting, but for once I manage to hold my tongue. Mrs. G. would be proud.

  SEVENTEEN

  I don’t see Leo or the others before school. Mr. Lawson tries to bait me into an argument during home-room by making snarky comments about my hair and by calling me Emily, but I refuse to be drawn in. I absolutely can’t get a lunch-hour detention today.

  When the bell rings at ten to twelve, I’m out the door in a flash.

  Parker is standing right where she was the first time I met her, wearing the same faded skinny jeans and multi-colored sweater. I grin, and then I notice that she’s not alone. Leo and Jamie are there too.

  “Hey. Sorry about the cryptic message,” I tell Leo. “Mom was standing about two feet from the phone.”

  He nods. “Yeah, I figured.”

  “I’m not going to do that climb,” I say, speaking fast so I can’t change my mind. “At Central, you know? It’s too hard. Too dangerous.”

  “Good,” Parker says quickly. “Good. It’s so not worth risking your life over, you know?”

  “Really? You’re not going to?” Jamie’s eyes shift from me to Parker, to Leo and back to me. Then he smiles ever so slightly. “Well, don’t worry about it. I’ve got another plan anyway.”

  “You do?” Parker looks surprised. “With Paul and Keenan and those guys?”

  “No. Forget those guys. They couldn’t even show up on time at Central. This is just us. No one else.”

  “What is? What are you talking about?” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, agitated. Anxious.

  Jamie steps away from the doors and gestures for us to follow. When we get to the edge of the grassy field, he stops and turns to face us. “We need to decide when and where to do it.”

  “Do what?” I ask. “What’s the plan?”

  There is a long silence.

  “I want to know if you’re in first,” he says. “We don’t want anyone wussing out.”

  “What about me? You haven’t told me either.” Parker wraps her arms around herself as if she’s cold.

  Leo looks at me. “You’re in, aren’t you, Dante? You’re with us?”

  “Sure,” I say. “Why not? As long as I don’t have to climb any three-story buildings.”

  He looks at Jamie. “Good enough?”

  Jamie shrugs. “Whatever.”

  “What about me?” Parker says again. “Don’t you want to make sure I’m in too?”

  “You’re in,” Jamie says flatly.

  I look at Parker. She drops her eyes and doesn’t say anything.

  “So what’s the plan?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light.

  “This is something I’ve been thinking about for a while,” Jamie says. He turns and looks at Leo.

  Leo clears his throat. For once, he isn’t meeting my eyes. “The thing is, a lot of our actions—handing out flyers at the schools or the protest yesterday, for example— haven’t accomplished much.”

  “I don’t know about that. It made me think. I mean, if it wasn’t for Parker’s flyers, I wouldn’t be here.”

  Jamie snorts. “Yeah. One person out of a whole school.”

  “Still, that’s a start,” I say, remembering what Parker had said about change happening one person at a time.

  Jamie ignores me. “The sign you and Leo hung up at GRSS—Parker said you told her no one even talked about it.”

  “Yeah.” I nod. “But if we did something like that again...or maybe handed out those flyers about schools and prisons...”

  He shakes his head and smiles. “Nah. We need to do something that’ll get their attention.”

  He and Leo look at each other, and for a moment no one says anything. Parker’s eyes meet mine. She looks scared, and I feel a sudden chill, a prickling at the back of my neck and a gripping tightness in my belly. Whatever is going to be said next, I’m not sure I w
ant to hear it.

  Jamie drops his cigarette and grinds it under his heel. “Leo didn’t have a good time here, did you, Leo?”

  There’s something in his voice—something hard and taunting—that makes me shiver.

  Leo shakes his head. “Don’t go there, Jamie.”

  “Aww...bad memories?”

  “Stop it.” Parker’s voice is sharp.

  There is a tense silence. A standoff of some kind. I look from Jamie to Leo, to Parker, and wonder what is going on. Finally Leo sighs, giving in. “Okay. No. I didn’t have a good time here.”

  Jamie grins; then he lets him off the hook and turns to me. “And you don’t much like it, do you, Dante?”

  He’s leading me somewhere, leading all of us, and I’m not sure I want to follow. I just shake my head slowly. “Not much.”

  “So GRSS is our target then.”

  I roll my eyes. “Enough with the mystery, Jamie. What are you talking about?”

  He grins. “We’re going to burn your school down, Dante. That should get their fucking attention.”

  “You’re not serious,” I say. I should be shocked but mostly what I feel is disappointment. I’ve been so caught up in the excitement of trying to make change, so inspired by Parker and the others, and now this. It’s not what I thought we were all about.

  “I’m dead serious.”

  “It’s a stupid idea,” I say. “No way am I doing that.”

  Jamie gives a snort of disgust. “I fucking knew you’d wuss out.”

  I ignore him and look at Leo. “Come on, Leo. You can’t honestly think this is a good idea.”

  He meets my eyes and his voice is low and intense. “I wasn’t sure at first either, but you know, it’s like Jamie says. We can’t let fear stop us. If we want to make change, we have to take action.”

  “How the hell is burning down the school going to change anything?” I shake my head. “It’ll make us look crazy. No one will take anything we say seriously.”

  Parker nods. “She’s right. We’d be better to keep doing the stuff we were doing. Asking questions, trying to make people think.”

  “You’re just scared,” Jamie says, his voice cutting. “And so is Dante.”

  “We’re not in grade two, Jamie,” I tell him, scowling. “I’m not going to do something stupid just to prove I’m not scared.”

  Parker doesn’t say anything.

  “You’re scared,” Jamie says, taunting.

  I stand up. “Look, I’m not scared, because I’m not doing it. It’s messed up. There’s no point.”

  His eyes are hard. “You said you were in.”

  “Yeah, well, I assumed you were planning something that made sense.”

  “You better go then,” he says. “And once you’re out, you’re out.”

  Leo is watching me. His dark eyes are hard to read, and he doesn’t say anything. I feel sad, like something important is ending. We’d had a connection of some sort. I’d liked being part of a group, this group. And now it’s all over.

  “Dante,” Parker says suddenly.

  I turn toward her and something catches inside me. If I’m out of the group, what does that mean for me and Parker? I don’t want to lose her. “What?” I say.

  She stares at me mutely.

  “Parker? What is it?”

  She stands there, all huddled up and swollen-eyed and miserable in her too-big sweater. The bruise on her cheek is fading and turning green. “Nothing,” she says at last.

  Jamie puts his arm around her protectively. Possessively. I look at her for a few seconds longer, wishing that I knew the right words to reach her. Dump him, Parker. Walk away. Get your own life. I swallow and say nothing. Then Parker drops her eyes, and I turn and walk away.

  After school, I go down to the basement. Dad’s little guys are all set up down there, rows of tiny plastic soldiers ready to fight, displays of perfect order amidst the chaos of the basement: boxes piled against the walls, stacks of furniture that Dad won’t get rid of but Mom won’t allow upstairs, overflowing shelves of books that I think I might re-read someday. I sit on an old wooden stool and think about my life, and about my school, and about Parker. Most of all, about Parker.

  I don’t know what to do.

  Eventually, I hear Mom come in the front door. “Dante?”

  “Down here,” I yell, and then I hear her feet on the stairs.

  She looks around, her nose wrinkled with displeasure. She hardly ever comes down to the basement. “What are you up to tonight?” she asks. “Homework?”

  “I guess.”

  “Anything due tomorrow?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing major.” Just an English paper for Lawson, and a ton of math I’ve been ignoring and getting further and further behind on.

  The phone rings and Mom sprints back up the stairs to answer it. “Dante,” she calls. “It’s for you.”

  I follow her up to the kitchen, wondering if it’s Parker. Hoping it’s Parker. Mom hands me the phone and taps her watch. “Two minutes.”

  “Hello,” I say, ignoring her.

  “It’s me. Parker.”

  I look at my mother, willing her to leave the room.

  Nope.

  “Hi,” I say, lowering my voice. “How are you doing?”

  “Dante...Look, I wanted to tell you.” Her breath catches. “That thing about burning the school down? They’re going to do it tonight.”

  I feel like she’s just kicked me in the chest. My heart is racing and my hands are sweaty, but Mom’s eyes are on me, so I try to sound calm. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Really. I’m outside at a pay phone. Jamie doesn’t know I’m calling you.”

  “What about you?” I ask.

  There is a pause. I picture Parker standing in the glass phone booth, twiddling the phone cord between her fingers or smoking a cigarette.

  “I don’t want to do it,” she says at last.

  “So don’t.”

  I can hear her breathing.

  “Parker? If you don’t want to, then don’t.”

  “I have to,” she says. Her voice breaks. “Jamie and Leo...well, they’re kind of like my family.”

  Mom looks at me and taps her watch again.

  “Parker?” I say quickly.

  “What?”

  “What time? Tell me what time.”

  “Leo’s picking us up at midnight. Dante...I’m glad you’re not coming, you know? I mean, you’re right, it’s stupid. Worse than stupid. It’s an awful thing to do.” She is crying now. “But I kind of wish you were coming too.”

  Mom reaches for the phone, and I turn away from her, holding on tightly.

  “Parker. Don’t go with them,” I say. “Don’t.” I can hear her starting to cry harder on the other end of the line.

  “Dante.” Mom’s voice is firm and self-righteous. “That’s your two minutes. Hang it up or I’ll do it for you.”

  “Mom, this is important.”

  Her hand closes over mine.

  “Parker, I have to go.” I press End and practically throw the phone at my mother. I don’t think I’ve ever been so angry. Right now, I almost hate her.

  She looks a bit stunned. “You know the rules.”

  “Yeah. And she was crying and needed to talk to someone,” I say. “And I just hung up on her. Thanks a lot, Mom. Real nice.”

  “Well, I didn’t know.” She hesitates. “It wasn’t anything serious though, right?”

  “Of course not, Mom. We’re teenagers.” My voice comes out really loud, but I can’t seem to help it. “We don’t have serious problems. Not like adults. Our problems don’t matter at all.”

  “Calm down,” she says. “Tell me what’s going on. If it is really something serious, you could always call her back.”

  “No, I couldn’t,” I spit. “She doesn’t have a phone.”

  “What was she upset about?”

  For about half a second, I let myself imagine telling her. Well, her abusive boyfriend and his p
al are going to burn down my school tonight.

  “It’s none of your business,” I tell her.

  She sighs. “Well, if it’s really that important I’m sure she’ll call back.”

  I go up to my room and try to convince myself that Leo and Jamie won’t really do it. That Leo, at least, has more sense. Call back, Parker. Call back. A second later, the phone rings, and I leap off my bed, race downstairs and meet Mom at the kitchen door. She looks at me, eyebrows raised, and I jump on the phone.

  “Parker?”

  “Um. No, it’s Linnea.”

  “Oh.” I’m disappointed, then surprised, and then curious. We talk at school, but she’s never called me before. “What’s up?”

  “Look...this is none of my business, but I just thought I should call.”

  I watch Mom watching me from across the kitchen. “Um, is this about that group? Because I haven’t really had a chance to think about that.”

  “No.” She hesitates. “It’s just, I asked my brother about that guy. Leo?”

  I glance at the clock. Two minutes. “And? Did he know him?”

  “Yeah. Well, he knew of him.” She lowers her voice. “It sounds like Leo was bullied in grade nine. Like, really bad. Eric—that’s my brother—says a group of guys kicked the shit out of him pretty regularly. Used to do stuff to humiliate him, you know? He says it was pretty sick.”

  “Seriously? You sure it’s the same guy?”

  “Yeah. Well, I guess there could be two Leos who both left at the same time.” She sounds skeptical, and I have to admit it isn’t likely. But neither is the image of Leo getting beat up. I can’t imagine him being that vulnerable, somehow. But this would have been almost four years ago. I guess everyone’s pretty vulnerable at fourteen.

  No wonder he dropped out.

  “Eric says when Leo came back in grade ten, he was totally different. Like he grew a lot over the summer, and he beat the shit out of one of the guys who used to bully him. Broke his jawbone so the guy had to have it wired shut for, like, half the term.”

  “Jeez.”

  “Yeah. Eric says the other kids left Leo alone after that. Plus he’d started dealing drugs and stuff, and so he was at all the parties.”

 

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