Abel Baker Charley (39 page)
Liz, I'm a hunted man.
They'll never find us.
Liz, there's something terrible about me.
No, there isn't, Jared. I started to think so, but I know bet
ter now. There are parts of you like parts of me that aren't al
ways so terrific. But your unterrific parts come in a whole
lot handier than most people's. And the part that's mostly there is very tender and loving. Anyway, the worst of you is a lot less terrible than men like this Duncan Peck, who kills
to get something he wants, or Mr. Harrigan here, who can kill, I don't care why, without feeling sick about it, or like
Sonnenberg, who thinks people's lives are his toys. You
know what I think, Dr. Sonnenberg? Want to hear a wild
guess? I think you play with other people's lives because
there isn't any you. I think if someone peeled off your skin
there wouldn't be a thing underneath. But Jared's real. And
Tina's real. And I'm getting realer all the time. And we're getting the hell away from you, Dr. Sonnenberg.
ter now. There are parts of you like parts of me that aren't al
ways so terrific. But your unterrific parts come in a whole
lot handier than most people's. And the part that's mostly there is very tender and loving. Anyway, the worst of you is a lot less terrible than men like this Duncan Peck, who kills
to get something he wants, or Mr. Harrigan here, who can kill, I don't care why, without feeling sick about it, or like
Sonnenberg, who thinks people's lives are his toys. You
know what I think, Dr. Sonnenberg? Want to hear a wild
guess? I think you play with other people's lives because
there isn't any you. I think if someone peeled off your skin
there wouldn't be a thing underneath. But Jared's real. And
Tina's real. And I'm getting realer all the time. And we're getting the hell away from you, Dr. Sonnenberg.
The last part was almost out loud. Harrigan thought he heard Sonnenberg's name.
“What about Sonnenberg?”
“Just a feeling about him.”
“What feeling?”
“Never mind. It's too dumb.”
14
Under the striped awning that covered the patio of Jane
Carey's Spruce Street house in Greenwich, Tina Baker
slipped off the earphones of a Sony Walkman and let them fall across her shoulders. Just ten minutes, she thought.
Carey's Spruce Street house in Greenwich, Tina Baker
slipped off the earphones of a Sony Walkman and let them fall across her shoulders. Just ten minutes, she thought.
Just a ten-minute break until the throbbing stops and
she'd do one more repetition of her exercises. She had to
keep pushing. No matter how much it hurt, she had to keep
telling herself that the pain was only the stretching of unused
muscles and of nerve endings growing slowly together in
her leg. It was progress. Every day was progress as long as
she worked at it. The color had long since returned to her
foot and ankle, and the numbness of her toes had changed to
a tingling that made a spark now and then like an electric
shock. But even that was fading. And the scars weren't so
ugly anymore, especially if she kept them tanned. It hardly
even hurt as long as she didn't do too much. But she had to
push. Soon, maybe even today, her father would be coming.
And when he did, she was going to walk good.
she'd do one more repetition of her exercises. She had to
keep pushing. No matter how much it hurt, she had to keep
telling herself that the pain was only the stretching of unused
muscles and of nerve endings growing slowly together in
her leg. It was progress. Every day was progress as long as
she worked at it. The color had long since returned to her
foot and ankle, and the numbness of her toes had changed to
a tingling that made a spark now and then like an electric
shock. But even that was fading. And the scars weren't so
ugly anymore, especially if she kept them tanned. It hardly
even hurt as long as she didn't do too much. But she had to
push. Soon, maybe even today, her father would be coming.
And when he did, she was going to walk good.
Tina had told Mrs. Carey that. That he was co
m
ing. She
told her the day before yesterday and again this morning.
Mrs. Carey was nice and said she hoped so, but she really didn't believe it. Tina even told her this morning about the
dreams she'd had. First, her father was telling her to look for a friend of hers who was on television. She was too late. At
least she wasn't sure she saw the friend her father meant.
Then later, when the sky was almost light, there was another
dream, of her father standing in a glass box way up in the
sky, looking down at her from far away. The same friend was
in that dream too, even if Tina couldn't see her. The friend
was sleeping in another part of the box. Back away from the
window part. Tina still wasn't sure who the friend was. One
name crossed her mind, but that name was a little bit much
to believe. Anyway, the person she thought it might be
wasn't even a friend. Not like a school friend. Just someone
she thought about a lot and liked. But Tina did know for sure
that the friend had something to do with her dad and with skiing. And that the friend wanted to ski with her. Skiing is
probably why that other name popped into her mind. But she
wasn't going to ski with anybody unless she got off her duff
and got herself back into shape.
m
ing. She
told her the day before yesterday and again this morning.
Mrs. Carey was nice and said she hoped so, but she really didn't believe it. Tina even told her this morning about the
dreams she'd had. First, her father was telling her to look for a friend of hers who was on television. She was too late. At
least she wasn't sure she saw the friend her father meant.
Then later, when the sky was almost light, there was another
dream, of her father standing in a glass box way up in the
sky, looking down at her from far away. The same friend was
in that dream too, even if Tina couldn't see her. The friend
was sleeping in another part of the box. Back away from the
window part. Tina still wasn't sure who the friend was. One
name crossed her mind, but that name was a little bit much
to believe. Anyway, the person she thought it might be
wasn't even a friend. Not like a school friend. Just someone
she thought about a lot and liked. But Tina did know for sure
that the friend had something to do with her dad and with skiing. And that the friend wanted to ski with her. Skiing is
probably why that other name popped into her mind. But she
wasn't going to ski with anybody unless she got off her duff
and got herself back into shape.
With that thought setting the pace of her day, Tina had pushed herself out of bed even earlier than usual. She chose
a Stratton Mountain T-shirt from her drawer, put on some
sneakers and a pair of cut-offs, went out to the patio, and
began doing the aerobics she'd taped from a morning televi
sion program. They were better and lots more fun than Dr.
Bruggerman's therapy program, but she did it too. She'd do
a second set of his resistance exercises after breakfast,
which, come to think about it, should have been ready by
now. It must be twenty minutes since she'd smelled the
bacon frying. Someone probably called. Her dad? No. She
always knew when he did.
a Stratton Mountain T-shirt from her drawer, put on some
sneakers and a pair of cut-offs, went out to the patio, and
began doing the aerobics she'd taped from a morning televi
sion program. They were better and lots more fun than Dr.
Bruggerman's therapy program, but she did it too. She'd do
a second set of his resistance exercises after breakfast,
which, come to think about it, should have been ready by
now. It must be twenty minutes since she'd smelled the
bacon frying. Someone probably called. Her dad? No. She
always knew when he did.
Well, one more set, Tina decided Then she'd finish up
breakfast herself and start on a list of chores she'd made up. Mrs. Carey would argue as usual, but Mrs. Carey had done
everything for her long enough. Including driving her to
school and back every day for a full year. Besides, house
work was good for you. A good workout if you put a stretch
in everything you did. Tina put her earphones back in place
and switched on the Walkman. Arms up, kick, stretch, feet
together, shimmy down, shimmy up, spin, kick. The last
kick almost reached the face of the funny little man who was
watching her and smiling warmly, his lips moving, though
she couldn't hear him.
breakfast herself and start on a list of chores she'd made up. Mrs. Carey would argue as usual, but Mrs. Carey had done
everything for her long enough. Including driving her to
school and back every day for a full year. Besides, house
work was good for you. A good workout if you put a stretch
in everything you did. Tina put her earphones back in place
and switched on the Walkman. Arms up, kick, stretch, feet
together, shimmy down, shimmy up, spin, kick. The last
kick almost reached the face of the funny little man who was
watching her and smiling warmly, his lips moving, though
she couldn't hear him.
“Good morning,” she said breathlessly, once more slip
ping off her headset. Tina assumed vaguely that this was
why breakfast was late.
ping off her headset. Tina assumed vaguely that this was
why breakfast was late.
”A very lovely morning.” The man nodded. “It's very
graceful the way you do that. What do you call that kind of
dancin' ?” He stood in the awning's shadow at the opening
of the low brick wall that surrounded most of the patio. He had one of those funny New York accents that she'd only heard on television.
graceful the way you do that. What do you call that kind of
dancin' ?” He stood in the awning's shadow at the opening
of the low brick wall that surrounded most of the patio. He had one of those funny New York accents that she'd only heard on television.
“It... They call it aerobic dancing. It's basically disco,”
she answered. Tina added an uncertain “Hi!”
she answered. Tina added an uncertain “Hi!”
The man frowned. “Disco,” he repeated. “It don't look
like disco. Disco is how nice girls get into trouble. They go places where they dance with fags and weirdos, and sooner or later some bum gets them to try white powder, and after that it's better that their mothers never gave them life. What
you did doesn't look like that. Maybe it's the grass and the
flowers and the vegetables out here that makes it look clean.
Your geraniums should be repotted, by the way.”
like disco. Disco is how nice girls get into trouble. They go places where they dance with fags and weirdos, and sooner or later some bum gets them to try white powder, and after that it's better that their mothers never gave them life. What
you did doesn't look like that. Maybe it's the grass and the
flowers and the vegetables out here that makes it look clean.
Your geraniums should be repotted, by the way.”
Uh-oh, Tina thought. She glanced toward the patio door,
hoping to see Mrs. Carey smiling and saying that this was
only some old friend and that he wasn't as strange as he
sounded. Jane Carey did not appear. Tina took a half-step
backward.
hoping to see Mrs. Carey smiling and saying that this was
only some old friend and that he wasn't as strange as he
sounded. Jane Carey did not appear. Tina took a half-step
backward.
“Urn, I'm Christina Baker.” She almost held out her hand
but thought better of it.
but thought better of it.
The man smiled again. “I'm Stanley.” He announced his name as if she was supposed to recognize it. Tina shook her head uncomprehendingly.
“Stanley,” he repeated with more emphasis. “Stanley
Levy. Your father's friend. It was me that helped out when
that judge was being such a jerk about his kid what ran over
your foot. But that's in the past. It's all in the past. Now I'm fixing it so you can go to your father.”
Levy. Your father's friend. It was me that helped out when
that judge was being such a jerk about his kid what ran over
your foot. But that's in the past. It's all in the past. Now I'm fixing it so you can go to your father.”
Tina brightened for the briefest moment, but she knew
this was wrong. Her father would never have sent someone she didn't know to get he
r.
Tina took another step backward,
“You don't know my father,” she said quietly. “Anyway, you're not his friend.” However she knew that, Tina knew it.
She backed closer to the patio door.
this was wrong. Her father would never have sent someone she didn't know to get he
r.
Tina took another step backward,
“You don't know my father,” she said quietly. “Anyway, you're not his friend.” However she knew that, Tina knew it.
She backed closer to the patio door.
“Untrue,” Stanley said, a small hurt look
crossing
his face. ”I been his friend a lot of the time. I been yours too.
My mother will tell you the same thing when you meet
her.”
crossing
his face. ”I been his friend a lot of the time. I been yours too.
My mother will tell you the same thing when you meet
her.”
“
Your mother?” Tina asked doubtfully.
Your mother?” Tina asked doubtfully.
“Her place is where we're gonna wait until your father
comes to this other place, and then we'll meet him there.”
comes to this other place, and then we'll meet him there.”
”I better talk to Mrs. Carey.”
“No time.” Stanley shook his head. “I've already been
waiting around here since just after it got light to make sure
there weren't no cops or bad people who would try to stop
you or follow us and catch your father. Also, I already
thanked the lady for taking care of you, but she don't need
to do that no more.”
waiting around here since just after it got light to make sure
there weren't no cops or bad people who would try to stop
you or follow us and catch your father. Also, I already
thanked the lady for taking care of you, but she don't need
to do that no more.”
Tina was becoming frightened. She was getting a terrible feeling. “Mrs. Carey,” she called, stepping to the patio door and reaching for the latch. Tina felt the man moving toward
her. “Mrs. Carey!” She shouted this time, lunging out of his reach. Her foot protested the sudden movement with a stab
of pain so sharp she barely felt the other, smaller pain in the
back of her neck. An arm wrapped around her chest and she
kicked backward, twisting. Now the pain in her neck was huge, like a hornet bite. She groped at its source with her
fingertips, but the man seized her wrist.
her. “Mrs. Carey!” She shouted this time, lunging out of his reach. Her foot protested the sudden movement with a stab
of pain so sharp she barely felt the other, smaller pain in the
back of her neck. An arm wrapped around her chest and she
kicked backward, twisting. Now the pain in her neck was huge, like a hornet bite. She groped at its source with her
fingertips, but the man seized her wrist.
“Wait!” Stanley's voice was concerned. “You busted off
a needle. Stay quiet a second and I'll pull it out.”
a needle. Stay quiet a second and I'll pull it out.”
In the time it took him to say those words, Tina could feel
her body melting. “Daddy?” She called his name but
couldn't hear the sound it made. Her knees, one at a time, shivered and went soft. Now, floating in front of her, she
could see the syringe in the man's free hand. The other was around her waist. He was holding her awkwardly, trying to support her weight with one arm while the other looked for
a place to put the broken instrument. He almost dropped her
as his hand shifted to avoid accidentally touching her
breasts. “Daddy?” she slurred, angrily this time. “Help me, someone.” These words made no sound except a groan. The
man was lifting her, holding her, easing her down to the ground. Funny, he seemed so far away. She knew she was
touching him, but he didn't seem that close. She could even feel her own hand sliding up his chest and finding the stub
ble of whiskers at the underside of his chin. But it was as if
the hand did not belong to her. Too far away. She couldn't
fight him anymore. Too tired. Too far away. But there was
another hand. Not hers either. Helping her. Helping her fight
him. The hand held the earphones from her Walkman and it
was wrapping the wire over his head and under the whiskers
that she'd felt and pulling it tight. She didn't have to fight.
Someone else was fighting. Someone else was making him
stop. She didn't even feel mad at him anymore. Just tired. So
tired.
her body melting. “Daddy?” She called his name but
couldn't hear the sound it made. Her knees, one at a time, shivered and went soft. Now, floating in front of her, she
could see the syringe in the man's free hand. The other was around her waist. He was holding her awkwardly, trying to support her weight with one arm while the other looked for
a place to put the broken instrument. He almost dropped her
as his hand shifted to avoid accidentally touching her
breasts. “Daddy?” she slurred, angrily this time. “Help me, someone.” These words made no sound except a groan. The
man was lifting her, holding her, easing her down to the ground. Funny, he seemed so far away. She knew she was
touching him, but he didn't seem that close. She could even feel her own hand sliding up his chest and finding the stub
ble of whiskers at the underside of his chin. But it was as if
the hand did not belong to her. Too far away. She couldn't
fight him anymore. Too tired. Too far away. But there was
another hand. Not hers either. Helping her. Helping her fight
him. The hand held the earphones from her Walkman and it
was wrapping the wire over his head and under the whiskers
that she'd felt and pulling it tight. She didn't have to fight.
Someone else was fighting. Someone else was making him
stop. She didn't even feel mad at him anymore. Just tired. So
tired.
“Hey, Levy.”
Stanley heard Vinnie Cuneo's voice at the screen door, but he did not look up. He was not yet sure that he could
speak. His hands gently massaging his throat, he sat on the
flagstone surface of the patio near the softly breathing body
of Tina Baker. He stared in wonder at the smooth skin of her
face. It was a sweet face, he thought. A nice face. Delicate.
Like the kind of doll you keep on a shelf because it would break too easy if you played with it. Fragile like. Little.
Maybe ninety pounds, and if he wanted to, he could pick her
up right now and carry her easy. A feather.
speak. His hands gently massaging his throat, he sat on the
flagstone surface of the patio near the softly breathing body
of Tina Baker. He stared in wonder at the smooth skin of her
face. It was a sweet face, he thought. A nice face. Delicate.
Like the kind of doll you keep on a shelf because it would break too easy if you played with it. Fragile like. Little.
Maybe ninety pounds, and if he wanted to, he could pick her
up right now and carry her easy. A feather.
“Hey, Levy, we're going to have company.”
Fragile except she near killed him. She near choked out
his lights wrapping that thing around his neck with one hand
while she pulled the busted needle out of her own neck with
the other. Cut this out, he thought. It didn't happen that way.
It couldn't have happened that way. There were times, he
knew, when he couldn't remember things right. Times when
he had crazy thoughts that couldn't be the way things were,
and this had to be one of those times. Look at her. He
touched his fingers to her cheek, brushing back her honey-
colored hair, then ran them lightly down her neck and the
length of her arm. Fragile. Good muscle tone where there's meat but fragile. Delicate.
his lights wrapping that thing around his neck with one hand
while she pulled the busted needle out of her own neck with
the other. Cut this out, he thought. It didn't happen that way.
It couldn't have happened that way. There were times, he
knew, when he couldn't remember things right. Times when
he had crazy thoughts that couldn't be the way things were,
and this had to be one of those times. Look at her. He
touched his fingers to her cheek, brushing back her honey-
colored hair, then ran them lightly down her neck and the
length of her arm. Fragile. Good muscle tone where there's meat but fragile. Delicate.
“Levy!” Cuneo kicked open the aluminum door and ges
tured toward Tina's body. “If you want to rip off a piece of chicken, do it later. There's some broad workin' the
street
ringing doorbells. One of them Avon ladies or somethin'.”
tured toward Tina's body. “If you want to rip off a piece of chicken, do it later. There's some broad workin' the
street
ringing doorbells. One of them Avon ladies or somethin'.”
Stanley, his face white, lifted his eyes slowly to meet
those of Vinnie Cuneo. “You said what, you pig?”
those of Vinnie Cuneo. “You said what, you pig?”
The insult confused Vinnie. His expression said he had
no idea of the enormity of his remark concerning Stanley's
intentions toward this child. “Hey, what pig?” asked Vinnie,
offended. “I'm telling you there's a dame gonna come to the
door soon.”
no idea of the enormity of his remark concerning Stanley's
intentions toward this child. “Hey, what pig?” asked Vinnie,
offended. “I'm telling you there's a dame gonna come to the
door soon.”
You should thank her, thought Stanley. Because of this woman you will live a while longer. “What of the Carey woman, Vinnie? Will she be able to call out?”
”Naw” Vinnie shrugged. ”I got her so she's quiet.”
“Then why don't we just not answer the door, Vinnie?”
”I think she seen me watchin' her. She keeps lookin' over
here.”
here.”
“She shows a special interest in this house, Vinnie?”
Vinnie didn't answer. His attention had drifted to Tina's
torso, which he touched with his eyes. “You wanna look, go
look,” he said. “I'll keep an eye on jailbait here.”
torso, which he touched with his eyes. “You wanna look, go
look,” he said. “I'll keep an eye on jailbait here.”
Stanley winced like he'd been slapped. He bit his lip and
squeezed his eyes shut against the thought of this animal fondling Baker's sleeping daughter. But he would not shut out the voices that wailed inside his head. Women's voices. The voice of Tina Baker's mother screaming her anguish
from the grave. The sobs of Vinnie's own mother telling
Stanley that better her son was also in the ground that he
should even think such a sin. And Stanley's mother. Even
Emma his cousin had such shock upon her face. Tortora was
right like always. It was right that Stanley should so some
thing about this shlub.
squeezed his eyes shut against the thought of this animal fondling Baker's sleeping daughter. But he would not shut out the voices that wailed inside his head. Women's voices. The voice of Tina Baker's mother screaming her anguish
from the grave. The sobs of Vinnie's own mother telling
Stanley that better her son was also in the ground that he
should even think such a sin. And Stanley's mother. Even
Emma his cousin had such shock upon her face. Tortora was
right like always. It was right that Stanley should so some
thing about this shlub.
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