Backtracker (3 page)

Ernie and Billy Bristol were Dave
'
s best friends, and had been for years. First coming together at the Wild West Steakhouse, they had formed a close
-
knit alliance, a magnetized trio. The only things that they really had in common were their jobs and school: they all worked at the steakhouse and attended Orchard
C
ollege. Otherwise, they were all very different: Dave was the worrywart, paranoid and skittish and self
-
conscious; Ernie was the ambitious overachiever, dreaming of medical school; and Billy was the wild card, hyper and carefree, living for pleasure and mischief and spectacles. As individuals, they tended to indulge their separate natures to excess, to self
-
destructive levels; as a group, they balanced each other, kept each other from going too far. Billy helped Dave and Ernie to relax and have fun; Dave and Ernie kept Billy in check, prevented his wilder impulses from causing real damage. The three of them complemented and sustained each other, and they knew it, even if they never spoke of it.

Of course, graduation was coming up, and what would happen after that was anybody
'
s guess.

"
Can I get you a drink, Darlene
?
"
Ernie asked courteously.
"
I can fix you whatever you want
-
rum and coke, screwdrivers, seven and sevens, whatever.
"

"
How about a rum and coke without the rum
?
"
she responded.

"
Are you sure
?
"
wondered Ernie.
"
I can fix you a weak rum and coke, if you want. One drink won
'
t hurt you.
"

"
I
'
d better not, thanks. Just a coke would be fine.
"

"
All right,
"
shrugged Ernie, opening the refrigerator.
"
One soda, coming up. If you decide you want anything else, just help yourself.
"

"
Thanks, I will,
"
nodded Darlene, accepting a cold, red can from the host.

"
Well,
"
sighed Ernie as the refrigerator door fell shut.
"
I
'
d better get downstairs and see what
'
s going on. I don
'
t like to leave Billy and those boneheads alone in my house for too long. They
'
ve probably demolished most of the basement by now.
"

"
I was
wondering
what those explosions were a couple minutes ago,
"
smirked Dave.
"
I thought I heard a
jackhammer
down there, too.
"

"
I wouldn
'
t be surprised,
"
smiled Ernie, turning to head down the hall.
"
So are you two going to join us, or are you going to sit in the kitchen all night?
"

"
I don
'
t know,
"
said Dave, looking expectantly at Darlene.
"
What do you want to do?
"

"
What do you want to do
?
"
she replied.

"
Whatever you want to do.
"

"
Well, I want to do what you want to do,
"
she smiled.

"
I
want to do what
you
want to do,
"
persisted Dave.

"
What do
you
want to do
?
"
asked Darlene, looking as if she might burst into laughter at any moment.

"
Whatever
you
want to do
!
"
sputtered Dave.
"
You want to go mingle, or you want to stay here in the kitchen all night?
"

"
It
'
s up to you,
"
she giggled, her pretty brown eyes sparkling with amusement.

"
I
'
ll
settle this
!
"
interrupted Ernie.
"
You
'
re both coming downstairs, and that
'
s that!
"

"
Hey, Ernie,
"
yapped Dave.
"
What
'
s the big idea? Can
'
t you see we
'
re trying to make up our minds here?
"

"
That could take the rest of the decade
!
"
tossed the host.
"
Someone
'
s
got to make the decisions around here.
"

"
Hey, Darlene,
"
said Dave with a wink.
"
You think we should listen to Ernie?
"

"
If
you
think we should,
"
she chimed.

"
What do
you
think?
"

"
That
'
s it
!
"
laughed Ernie, stomping out of the kitchen.
"
I can
'
t take any more of this!
"

"
Wait
!
"
called Dave.
"
We
'
re just getting started!
"

"
That
'
s what I
'
m afraid of
!
"
Ernie answered from the hallway.

"
Gee,
"
shrugged Dave.
"
I wonder why
he
left?
"

"
I
don
'
t know,
"
laughed Darlene.

"
Do you think it was something we said?
"

"
Well,
"
she said between giggles,
"
what do
you
think?
"

"
I think it
'
s time for a beer,
"
he said, rising from his chair, gently pulling Darlene along with him.

Laughing, hand in hand, they followed Ernie down the hall, pausing once for a long, loving kiss in the shadows.

*****

Chapter
5

The hitchhiker
'
s trip to Confl
uence was a roller coaster ride
. The drunk at the wheel drove like a maniac, whipping the station wagon from side to side, never staying in one lan
e for more than a few seconds.

Despite the
dangerous ride
, the hitchhiker was never worried. Keeping his eyes on the golden line, he knew that he would make it to Confluence.
He'd
come so far, and endured so much, and
he had
a strong feeling that the worst was over.

And sure enough, he reached Confluence in one piece.

After escaping the drunk, the hitchhiker walked for a while through the darkened streets. The sight of familiar landmarks made him feel comfortable and confident, ready to handle anything because he was back in his hometown, his place of power. Most of all, he was excited by the knowledge th
at he was close, close to
her
,
to the beginning of his mission.

Before long, he reached his destination.

Standing there on the sidewalk, beneath the entwined branches of two huge oak trees, he paused. The red brick house waited before him, a small, squat box with just a few feet of front yard se
parating it from the sidewalk.

He drew a breath and nodded. This was the place, all right.

In the front windows of the brick house, he could see
the gray
glow
of a television
.
Someone was home. Someo
ne was awake.

It had to be her.

There was only one car in the driveway, and it was her old, green Gremlin, the one with tacky bumper stickers all over the rear panels and chrome. There was no sign of her mother
'
s car, and that was as it should be; her mother had always worked late, since she was a waitress at a downtown bar. Her father, of course, was dead, killed many years ago in a steel mill a
ccident...or was it just a
few
years ago?

For a moment, he stood on the sidewalk and smiled, eyes focused on the beautiful gl
ow of the living room windows.
It was overwhelming, after all that
he'd
been through, after all the agony and strugg
le, to be standing on the brink
of fulfillment.

After all the despair, a miracle was about to
happen
. He was the one who would make this great miracle come to pass.

He was the Miraclemaker.

Heart leaping in his chest, eyes gleaming, he started across the yard.
H
e smoothed his hair and clothing, trying to mak
e himself look more presentable
.

When he reached the front door, he
knocked
on the windowless panel, the final barrier between him and the start of his holy crusade. Taking a step back, he saw a shadowy form gliding behind the translucent curtains.

He heard footsteps approaching from inside the house, then the
first rattle of the doorknob.
Mesmerized, he watched
the door
open inward
, releasing a
spray of light from the house.

Then, he saw her.

She peered out through the gap with a puzzled expression, and for a second, he was stupefied. S
he had
long, amber hair, hazel eyes, a round face
-
the same features that he remembered, that
he'd
known for years. The wide mouth, the pale skin, the chubbiness were all the same...even the rumpled gray sweatshirt and sweatpants that s
he'd
always favored...and yet, she looked so different.
She seemed plainer, slacker, less defined, amorphous as dough before it is baked into a solid, distinct form.
He'd
expected this, naturally, given the circumstances of his last encounter with her, but it still surprised him. It was her...and yet, it
wasn
'
t
her, not quite the same person.

"
Hello
?
"
she said, frowning, holding the edge of the door loosely in her hands.

"
Hi,
"
said the Miraclemaker
.
"
I
'
m Gary Milton. My God...are you Debby?
"

"
Yes,
"
she
said
, staring at his face.
"
Do I know you from somewhere?
"

"
Sure you do,
"
he grinned, feeling strangely startled because she
didn
'
t
recognize him.
"
Gary Milton, remember? I worked with your dad.
"

For a moment, she frowned and tipped her head to one side, still searching his face.
"
Wait a minute,
"
she said at last, pointing a finger at him.
"
Gary Milton.
I remember my dad used to talk about you all the time.
"

"
What did he say
?
"
said the Miraclemaker
.
"
I hope it was all good.
"

"
Well,
"
she said,
"
t
he main thing I remember is him telling me how you two picked on some guy named Charley.
"

"
Charley Grapowski
!
"
The Miraclemaker clapped
his hands victoriously.
"
That
'
s right! Charley always came to work drunk, and we
'
d get him to do stupid things, and then he
'
d get in trouble! Boy, he was something else.
"

"
My dad used to love telling me stories about you and Charley,
"
she
said
.

"
Yeah.
"
T
he
Miraclemaker
nodded good
-
naturedly, shuffling his feet on the black rubber welcome mat.
"
We sure got a kick out of ol
'
Charley.
"

"
Dad always said watching Charle
y was more fun than watching TV.
"
S
he laughed, opening the door further, leaning more fully over the threshold.

"
Wow,
"
said the Miraclemaker
.
"
Just look
at you. My God, you
'
ve changed. The last time I saw you was
years
ago.
"

"
Really? I must
'
ve been pretty young, because I don
'
t remember ever meeting you.
"

"
How old
are
you now
?
"
he
said
.
"
Nineteen? Twenty?
"

"
Not quite.
"
S
he giggled.
"
I
'
m only seventeen.
"

"
Seventeen.
"
H
e
shook his head
.
"
Wow. That
'
s hard to believe.
"

"
Time flies, I guess,
"
she
said
, resting her shoulder against the frame of the door.

"
Boy, does it ever,
"
said the Miraclemaker
.
"
So, is your dad home? I thought I
'
d drop by and see him, since I
'
m in town for the first time in a while.
"

"
Uh, my dad passed away,
"
she said
, her voice
suddenly softer
.

"
What
?
"
he said, doing his best to sound stunned.
"
No! Oh God, you can
'
t be serious.
"

"
It
'
s true.
"
S
he nodded.
"
There was a big explosion down at the mill, and he was right in the middle of it.
"

"
Oh my God,
"
he gasped, eyes wide and jaw dropping with false shock.
"
Not Jack!
When did this happen?
"

"
Three years ago,
"
she said quietly, brushing a lock of amber hair behind one ear.
"
Three years ago, almost to the day.
"

"
Dear Lord,
"
he whispered dramatically, grimacing as if he were in agony.
"
I didn
'
t even
hear
about it. I
'
ve been in L.A. all this time, and I didn
'
t even know.
"

"
I
'
m sorry you didn
'
t find out until now,
"
she said sympathetically.
"
I guess maybe my mom didn
'
t know how to get ahold of you out in California.
"

Slowly lifting his hands to his temples, he closed his eyes tightly and bowed his head.
"
If only I
'
d
known
.
I...God, I wish I could
'
ve at
least
been at his funeral.
"

"
Uh, look,
"
she said, her voice filled with concern.
"
Why don
'
t you come in and have a cup of coffee or something?
"

"
I
'
d better not,
"
he sniffed, rubbing his eyes.
"
I don
'
t want to put you to any trouble.
"

"
Oh, it wouldn
'
t be any trouble,
"
she insisted.
"
You look like you need to sit down for a couple minutes.
"

"
Maybe...maybe I
'
d better,
"
the visitor groaned shakily, looking lost and distraught.

"
Come on in,
"
she invited, opening the door wide.
"
I
'
ll go put a pot of coffee on.
"

"
Thank you,
"
he mumbled brokenly.
"
I just...I wish I
'
d seen him one more time before...before he died.
"

"
So do I,
"
she smiled tenderly, closing the door.

And just like that, he was inside.

No muss, no fuss; he was inside. The lies had worked, just as
he'd
known they would.
He'd
known that she worshipped the memory of her dead father, and that posing as a friend of his would gain him swift admission to the house. Using information that she herself had unwittingly given him,
he'd
won her confidence, made her trust him enough to bring him inside. She still
hadn
'
t
guessed his real identity, and probably never would. Everything was now laid out before him in perfect order, like a marvelous buffet.

All that
he had
to do was start eating.

"
Do you take cream and sugar
?
"
she asked, turning her back to him, walking toward the kitchen.

The visitor
didn
'
t
reply.