She let Garrett and Hayden talk for a while without interrupting or even trying to follow their conversation. She just happily drank her beer and smoked her cigarette. Then Dawn and Cecelia wandered into the back and headed straight for her table. Inwardly, she groaned.
"Ramona," said Dawn. "Can we talk to you?"
"Sure," said Ramona. "Sit down."
"No, can we talk to you alone?" said Cecelia.
"Fine," said Ramona, getting up from the table. She followed Dawn and Cecelia further into the garden, to a small table underneath a huge, old tree. The three sat down. "What's up?" asked Ramona.
"We're just..." said Cecelia.
"...worried about you," said Dawn.
Worried about Ramona, her ass. They were just being bitchy. That was all there was to it.
"I mean, you know Garrett is a rapist, right?" said Cecelia.
"I don't know that," said Ramona.
"Oh yeah," said Cecelia. "He raped Blair."
"I meant that I don't think that's true," said Ramona.
"God, Ramona, you think Blair's lying?" asked Dawn in a horrified voice.
"Why don't you guys just drop it?" Ramona muttered. "I know something weird is going on around here. I know you guys have something to do with it." She didn't really know anything, and she didn't know why she said it. She guessed she wanted to gauge their reaction.
The girls exchanged a look. "Listen, we just don't think it's a good idea for you to hang out with Garrett," said Cecelia.
"We're your friends," said Dawn. "We don't want anything to happen to you." But her voice sounded a little flat, and there was a funny way that she cocked her head. Like a house cat sizing up her prey or something.
"Garrett's not going to hurt me," said Ramona.
"Associating with Garrett might," said Cecelia. "I thought Blair had already made that clear to you."
Ramona felt chills run through her body. What the hell was that? That wasn't a typical friendly thing to say. She clutched her beer tightly. "You're threatening me?"
"We like you, Ramona," said Cecelia. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to you."
"We don't especially like Garrett," said Dawn. "If you're always around him...well..."
Shit. She was right. She'd been right. There was something wrong with these girls. They weren't normal like other people. And they were threatening her. "What are you going to do?" she whispered.
Cecelia laughed then, a hard bright laugh, throwing her head back, because apparently what Ramona had said was so amusing. "I thought you'd figured us all out," she said. "You don't know what we do? Well, good. Maybe it should stay that way."
* * *
"Whatcha reading?" asked Rick, depositing his bag and jacket on the table where Heather was sitting. Heather didn't understand how a guy who was such a Nazi about dishes didn't seem to have any problem dumping his stuff on the table. He did it every day when he came home from work. In Heather's mind, tables were for food and that was it. But then, of course, Rick wouldn't even eat at a table if it meant he could keep from dirtying a dish. Heather did not understand the guy at all.
"It's a book I got from the Elston library," said Heather, looking up. "I've been looking for it for a long time."
Rick reached down and lifted the cover of the book so that he could read the title. Heather glared at him. "Ghosts, huh?" he said.
She did not want to have this conversation with Rick right now. She just wanted to keep reading her book in peace. She hadn't realized it was so late in the day and that he would be coming home soon, because she'd been so engrossed in the book. Rick probably wouldn't understand anyway, because Rick didn't really read for pleasure. And he definitely didn't understand her fascination with ghosts.
"So what's for dinner?" Rick asked.
Heather rolled her eyes. Rick was on this weird kick now, since she was doing shift work at the restaurant. A lot of the times, she went in late and worked until one or two, whenever they kicked the patrons out of the bar area and finished clean up after they were gone. If she was home all day and then left at six, Rick seemed to assume she should spend that time acting like a housewife or something. After all, it wasn't as if she should spend her downtime the way he did, watching TV and playing video games. No, she was the little woman. She should be cooking and cleaning. Sometimes, she wanted to strangle Rick. She smiled at him. "I don't know, sweetie," she said. "What were you thinking of cooking?"
He looked offended. "Look, I'm just saying that you've been home all day, and—"
"I slept until noon," Heather interrupted. "Just because I work late doesn't mean that I don't work, baby."
"If I had your schedule, and you had mine, I would cook you dinner," said Rick.
"Well, you're a sweetheart," said Heather. "Too bad you couldn't have married yourself." Inwardly, she seriously doubted Rick would do any such thing if their schedules were inverted. She went back to her book.
"Heather," Rick said. "Aren't you going to talk to me? I mean, we never see each other. You're going to have to go in to work in two hours. You're asleep when I get up. I miss you."
What Heather primarily wanted to do was read her book, not hang out with Rick, who she lived with, saw every day, and knew forwards, backwards, and inside out. But that seemed sort of rude, so she marked her page and closed the book. "Sure, baby," she said. "What do you want to talk about?"
But Rick was annoyed with her now. She could see it. God, why was marriage such hard work?
"No," he said. "You know what? It's fine. You read. I'll order pizza."
Heather sighed. "Well, when I was in Elston the other day getting the book, I ran into Garrett, who's apparently Ramona's new boyfriend."
"Oh yeah?"
"I don't like him. He's rude."
"Wait. Garrett? Garrett Hillard?"
"Yeah, that's his last name."
"He's back in Elston? That guy got run off a few years ago. He's a rapist."
Heather nodded. "Yeah, Ramona knows that. She doesn't think he is."
"So she thinks the chick...dude, what was her name? Claire or something?"
"Blair," Heather supplied.
"Yeah, Blair. Ramona thinks Blair is lying?"
"I guess so. She told me that Blair locked her in the basement of the library one night."
Rick made a face. Heather took some time to explain what Ramona had told her in more depth.
"Whoa," said Rick. "Do you believe her?"
"I believe her," said Heather. "I think. At least some of it is true. You know this Blair girl? What do you think about her?"
"Well, I sort of know her," said Rick. "I mean, I'd recognize her face. But you know I was never really what people would call a townie when I lived in Elston. I didn't really hang out in the same circles as she did. But, all those kids that lived on the river always struck me as a little weird. I guess I wouldn't put something like that past her."
Heather nodded. "I am kind of worried about Ramona. She seems so totally out of it lately. Maybe she's going a little crazy. The other day she tried to tell me that Blair was an alien, like in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or something."
Rick laughed. "Wait. They were ghosts, then they were clones, then they were demons, and now they're aliens? That's great. Really. Ramona is very imaginative."
"Or very insane," said Heather. "I don't know. What do you think I should do? Should I do anything? If it was your best friend, what would you do?"
"Probably just laugh it off," said Rick, shrugging.
"But she won't drop it. She's very serious about it."
"Well," said Rick. "I don't think you should tell her that you think she's nuts or something. Because that might just drive her off. If you keep telling her that you don't agree with her, she might just stop telling you about it to keep from getting a negative reaction." He paused. "Does she seem to be crazy in other ways? Like is she not going to work or spending too much money or drinking too much?"
"Not really," said Heather. "
I mean, besides the aliens stuff, she's the same as she ever was. No one living in Elston is completely normal anyway."
Rick shrugged again. "See what happens," he advised. "Maybe it'll all just blow over."
* * *
Garrett locked the library, whistling. Blair hadn't been by to freak him out or make veiled threats in quite some time. He and Ramona were going hot and heavy. Everything there was awesome. And even though something fucked up might be going on in Elston, for the first time in a long time, he felt like his life actually might be looking up. It was the closest he'd felt to happy in years.
His car was parked behind the library on Water Street. Water Street went one way and was barely wide enough for a car to actually fit down. Garrett wasn't entirely sure why the street warranted a name. It was more a glorified alley than anything else. Still, the library staff spaces were there. There were two of them, but if two people were actually working at the library, it was a tight fit to actually get two cars parked there. Like most parking in Elston, the staff spaces weren't real convenient to the library. All of the parking around the library was metered or residential. If Garrett had lived in town, he would have just walked to work. But his parents lived outside town, in a planned community where all the houses looked sort of the same. It reminded Garrett of the street in A Wrinkle in Time, on the planet where everybody was controlled by the huge brain It. There was something sinister about planned communities.
It was actually kind of ironic, he thought later, because he wasn't going to his car to drive away that evening. He was just going there to pick up the beer he'd left in the trunk so that he could take it over to Ramona's. He'd just called her to make sure that they were definitely hanging out tonight. She hadn't shown up at the library after work, because she was apparently staying a little late that evening. Still, he was going to wait for her at her apartment. She'd promised to be there as soon as she could. If it hadn't been for that beer, he'd never even have gone to his car.
When he got there, they were waiting for him. Owen, Zane, Craig, and Mason. Half of Garrett wanted to run. He knew they weren't there just to have a friendly chat with him. Half of him knew that running wouldn't matter. They'd get him no matter what he did. And the part of him that had been socialized by American movies told him that it was really cowardly to run away. So he walked up to them, a huge friendly smile plastered on his face.
"Hi guys," he greeted. "You looking for me?"
None of them smiled back. Their faces were stony; their arms crossed over their chests. Well, except Mason. Mason hung back, his hands shoved into his pockets. He stared at the ground and traced circles in the gravel of the parking lot with the toe of his shoe. Owen stepped forward. "I don't know what it is with you, Garrett," he said. "I guess you're just a stupid son of a bitch."
Garrett shrugged, still grinning. "Sometimes I am, I guess."
"You gonna get in your car, drive out of this town, and never come back?" sneered Zane.
"Don't believe I am," said Garrett. His grin seemed stuck in place. He couldn't wipe it off.
Zane and Craig moved forward with lightning speed. Zane seized Garrett's wrists and wrenched them together behind his back. Craig grabbed Garrett by the collar and slung Garrett against the closed trunk of his own car.
Garrett attempted to struggle for a second, but Zane was holding Garrett's wrists and pinning him against the car. Craig slammed Garrett's head against his back window and forced Garrett’s cheek against the glass. Owen lowered his own face until he was face to face with Garrett.
"Why are you staying here?" Owen asked.
Garrett didn't answer. He didn't owe them shit. They could beat him up as much as they wanted, but he wasn't talking to th—
Suddenly, Owen jammed his thumb against Garrett's eyelid and began pushing Garrett's eyeball into his skull. Pain jolted through Garrett’s skull.
"Why are you staying here?" Owen repeated.
"Ramona," gasped Garrett. Was his eye even going to work after they were done with him? Jesus.
The pressure on his eyeball abated, but Owen didn't move his thumb away, so Garrett could feel the heat of Owen's finger against his skin. His breath was starting to come in frightened bursts. Garrett was terrified he wasn't going to be able to see when Owen removed his finger.
"Ramona," muttered Owen. "What do you two talk about? What did she tell you about us?"
Garrett considered playing dumb, but he was so terrified about his eyesight, that he caved. He guessed that according to movie hero standards, he really was a coward. "She told me she saw Angelica after she died," he said.
Owen said something over Garrett's head to someone else. Garrett couldn't see because he was facing the wrong way, and anyway, both his eyes were squeezed shut against Owen's fingers. "I thought you took care of that. I thought you said she'd never say anything to anyone."
"Guess I was wrong," said one of the other guys.
Owen pressed on Garrett's eye again. Garrett yelled.
"Hey," said the same voice. "It's not his fault."
Owen removed his thumb. Garrett cautiously opened his eyes. He could see! His eye was aching, a dull thud in his head, but he didn't seem to be permanently damaged. He was so caught up checking his eyesight, that he didn't see the fist coming. It collided with his jaw. Someone yanked him up by the scruff of his shirt, and the blows rained down on him from all directions. Finally, when they were done, they tossed him on the ground, bleeding and bruised. "Just fucking leave town," Owen spat at him.
And then they were gone. Garrett wondered why he didn't just leave.
* * *
When Ramona's phone rang again, just as she was walking out the door of the admissions office, she didn't even look at the phone to see who was calling. She just snapped the phone open and snapped into the receiver, "I'm leaving right now, okay?"
Garrett hadn't been lying about the fact that he was a little overly demonstrative. It was annoying. When she hadn't shown up at the library when she'd said she would, he'd called immediately. He did it all the time, calling her if she were even five minutes late. He said it was because he was worried about her. After all, Blair had locked her in a basement, and Dawn and Cecelia had threatened her. So it made sense that Garrett might worry about her safety. But Ramona was starting to feel a little suffocated. Maybe Garrett was right. There was something wrong with him. Sure, it was better to have a boyfriend who cared. But there was a line that Garrett was coming dangerously close to crossing. He was starting to seem, well, possessive.
"It's Mason," said the person on the phone.
Shit. "Oh," said Ramona. Had she ever given Mason her phone number? "I thought you were Garrett. I'm sorry. What's up?"
"Where are you?"
"I'm coming out of the admissions office," said Ramona. "Why?"
"Okay, I'm across the street. I'll come over and meet you."
"What?" But Mason had hung up. Ramona looked around, trying to locate him. In a few seconds, she saw him walking across the street. She waved, but he didn't wave back. Once Mason was at her side, he took her by the arm and led her down the street a few feet. He pulled her into a small space between two buildings. They stood on the sidewalk between them.
"What's going on?" Ramona demanded. She wrenched her arm away from him and rubbed it. His grip had been a little tight.
"You told Garrett about Angelica." Mason's eyes flashed.
Ramona backed into the wall of the building. "Well..."
"You promised me you wouldn't tell anyone about that."
"I didn't for a really long time. What's wrong, Mason? Why—"
"Did you tell anyone else?"
Well, she'd told Heather, but she didn't know if she should tell him that. He seemed so angry. "No?"
"Is that a question?"
"What's going on?"
Mason ran his hands through his hair and looked away, sighing heavily. "I'm doing my best to keep you from finding that out, Ramona. Good God. Do you have any idea how m
uch danger you're in?"
"Well..."
"Don't answer that. Listen to me. You must tell me the truth. Have you told anyone else?"
Okay, she'd tell him the truth. "I told my best friend Heather."
"Heather? Do I know her?"
"She lives in Freeburg."
"Oh," said Mason, visibly relieved. "Good, good. You didn't tell anyone else in Elston besides Garrett?"
"No. No one would believe me, anyway."
"Please don't ever mention it again to anybody." Mason shoved his hands into his pockets and fixed Ramona with his gaze. "You really need to be careful, Ramona. Things are not what they seem to be around here."
"You mean there aren't a bunch of monsters of some kind wandering around in Elston, pretending to be river hippies?"
"Monsters?" Mason raised his eyebrows.
"Well, I don't know what they are. But they aren't exactly normal, are they? And you know something about it."
"Stop asking questions, Ramona. You have no idea what could happen to you. We're not talking getting locked in a basement or being knocked around a little by Owen and Zane. We're talking your life, okay. Do you understand? Your life could be in danger."
"Who's getting knocked around by Owen and Zane?" Ramona asked.
Mason swallowed and looked at his feet. "I tried to stop them." He looked back up at her. "I'm not entirely sure what it is you see in that guy anyway."
That guy? "What happened to Garrett?" Ramona demanded. "Why do you care what I see in him, anyway?" Was Mason jealous?
"Listen, Ramona, it's a message. They're trying to tell you to stay away. To leave it alone. You need to promise me that you'll stop trying to figure this out. Just let it go."
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