Darling (3 page)

He shut the car off, grabbed his keys, and shot out the door. He sprinted across the garage faster than he remembered he could run. By the time he made it to the counselor’s floor he had worked up a nice sweat. He looked at his watch again. It was exactly two o’clock.

He ducked into the bathroom, rinsed his face with cold water, and dried off with paper towels. He entered the office at two minutes after and was sitting in front of Mrs. Riddell by five after.

Not bad, he thought.

“So, Mr. Logan, I’ve been going over your grades and your placement exams.” She brushed a piece of graying hair from her eyes. “You seem to be a very bright and studious young man.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, there have been some changes in the curriculum during your, um,
absence
.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be a problem for someone like you. You’ll have to retake English 103, as some of the required readings have changed. You may be able to test out of the class rather than retake it, but you’ll have to speak to one of the English teachers about that.”

“I love to read. Shouldn’t be a big deal.”

She nodded and crossed her legs. He thought she must have been a knockout when she was younger. Even now his eyes were drawn to the shape of her calves.

“Well,” she continued, “the foreign language requirements have become more stringent, so you’ll need another year of—” A glance at her papers. “Italian, to meet requirements. And then you’ll need another Fine Art.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“And a physical science.”

“I had taken biology.”

“And passed. Unfortunately, there was a controversy about the curriculum during the years that you were originally here. The state has mandated that students who haven’t already graduated discard their biology credits. So you’ll have to retake the class or take another science.”

He sighed. “Well, if that’s what I have to do.”

She handed him a sheet of paper. “Here is a list of all of the current requirements for a Classical Studies major. And here is a print-out of all of your viable credits.”

“Thank you.”

She paused and stared at him. It was just long enough to make him uncomfortable and he fidgeted in his chair.

“Have you seen a psychiatrist?”

He blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Here.” She gave him another paper. It was pink and said “
EMOTIONAL PROBLEMS
?” at the top. “That’s the information for the Campus Health Center. If you ever find yourself having another, um…
episode
, please don’t hesitate to make an appointment.”

He could only nod.

“And if you have any more questions or concerns, please call me.”

He muttered a quick “thank you” and headed out the door.

His steps were much slower leaving her office. What information was in her files? He wished he had asked.

No. Better not to know. He felt bad enough as it was. All of the elation was sucked out of his day in two quick seconds like the air from a popped balloon.

Have you seen a psychiatrist?

No, ma’am. I found a different therapy. Time, and alcohol, and poverty, and public debasement. Those did the trick better than any shrink could.

Not that any of those things had worked completely. They had worked in tandem, like the diet, exercise, and supplement programs he gave his clients at the gym. All of those things together had made him hate himself enough to turn his life around. Everything he was doing now was pure determination, an unvoiced desire to prove he was a good, strong person. That he was no longer that self-obsessed boy he had been. That he wasn’t his father.

His father. That face was just one of the markers he used to map his life’s tragedies. The old man was the first and the last. In between his horrible influences other faces swirled. His mother. Allison.

Allison most of all.

Damn. He had been having a good day.

He pushed all of their faces aside and climbed into his car. He had good news to share, good for him and Mike. And it wasn’t just good news, was it? It was a new beginning.

He called Mike at the movie theater. He knew they frowned on personal calls, so made it brief. “What time you get off tomorrow?”

“Ummm…three.”

“I’ll pick you up at home after. Got something to talk to you about.”

Mike laughed. “Like what?”

“I’ll tell you when I pick you up. But it’s good news, man. Real good.”

When he hung up, some of his earlier mood had returned. He lowered the top on the car, cranked his radio up, and headed toward his apartment. Some lunch and a good workout would help erase the tension. Then maybe he’d call Eileen and see if she wanted to meet him and Mike at the new place tomorrow.

It was going to be a good day.

But something tugged at the back of his mind, some sensation that things weren’t going in the right direction. He tried to ignore it, but it stayed with him, at times conjuring the faces of his ghosts. He wondered if those faces would ever leave him.

* * *

“I’m just going out with some friends.” Mike jerked his red windbreaker from the closet, bending the wire hanger it hung from. He shrugged it on and stormed down the stairs.

His father stomped behind him. “We need to know where you’re going and who with.” His voice rumbled through the house like a rockslide.

“What’s it matter?”

“It matters because I damn well say it matters.”

His mother stood in front of the door. She wrung a dishtowel in her hands. Her knuckles were white and the muscles around her eyes quivered. “Are you going out with
him
again?”

Mike sighed and grabbed his shoes. He sat down on the stairs and loosened the laces.

“Your mother asked you a question.”

“I don’t know.” He pulled his shoes on.

“You know we don’t like you hanging around that son of a bitch.”

“You’ve been different since you started spending so much time with him.” His mother sniffed.

God, don’t cry. Not again.
“Different how?”

His father ran a hand through his thinning hair. “You’ve started disobeying us, for one.”

Mike tightened his laces and jumped to his feet. “I’m twenty years old, Dad. I should make some of my own decisions now, don’t you think?”

His father jerked forward, his nose less than an inch from his son’s face. Mike flinched. “You may think you’re an adult, Michael, but your behavior says otherwise.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Fucking Christ.”

His father’s hand shot out so fast he didn’t even see it. It left a red mark on his cheek and a ringing in his ears. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”

Mike tried to pour all of his hatred into his eyes.

The old man’s gaze was intense, the result of long years as a Marine. Mike looked away.

“Apologize to your mother for your language.”

“Sorry, Mom.”

She nodded.

“Now go to your room.”

“Dad!”

“Mike…”

“I can’t. I’ve got plans.”

“They can wait.”

“No, they can’t. We’re meeting with our class counselor.” It was a lie, but he couldn’t think of anything else that would get him out of the house.

His father studied him. Mike knew the old man could tell he was lying. Finally, he snorted and asked, “When’s your appointment?”

“Five.”

“A little late for an appointment, isn’t it?”

Mike shrugged.

“How long is it scheduled for?”

“I don’t know. It’s done when it’s done.”

“Hmph. Well, go meet with your counselor. But you have to come home after.”

A horn honked outside and his mother jumped. “Do you have to ride with him?”

“If you would let me get a car…”

She shook her head. “You don’t have a license.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Mike.” His father crossed his arms, the signal that Mike should drop it.

“Sorry.” He grabbed his house key. “I should go.”

His mother sidestepped and he opened the door. Dennis was parked across the street, the top down and his sunglasses on. Mike stepped out onto the porch. His father followed him, but his mother ran up the stairs.

He raced toward the car.

“You better call us after your appointment,” his father yelled from the porch.

Mike ignored him. He saw Dennis wave and then his friend looked away. He turned and glanced to the porch, where the old man’s eyes were filled with fire as he went back into the house.

The front door slammed shut.

“Just drive.”

The car eased down the road. When they were a safe distance away, Mike sighed. “I don’t know what their problem is,” he said.

“Yeah, you do. We both do.”

They drove through the neighborhood in silence. It wasn’t until they were on the highway that Mike’s anger got the better of him.

“Fuck! I should have started college two years ago. I should have gotten out when everything happened.”

Dennis shook his head. “They’re just scared of you growing up and not needing them anymore. Especially with Allison gone. You’re all they have.”

“Yeah, I guess. I just don’t know what to do.”

Dennis smiled. “I do.” He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and dangled them in front of Mike’s nose.

“What are those?” He pushed himself back in the seat as though his friend had revealed a dead mouse.

“Keys to our new place.” Dennis jangled them.

“What?”

“Yeah. I put a deposit down yesterday.”

Mike’s eyes went wide. He snatched the keys away and studied them. “You’re shitting me. Where?”

“Raynham Place.”

“Huh?”

“This big-ass place out on Emory Highway.”

“Way out there? That’s in the middle of nowhere.”

Dennis laughed. “That’s why it’s so cheap.”

“I don’t know...”

“C’mon, Mikey. This is the answer to all your problems. You get out from under your parents’ noses, get to concentrate on school, and finally get a damn life.”

“How will I get anywhere? The buses don’t run out into the boonies.”

“That’s the other part of the surprise. We’ve got two months until school starts. I’m going to teach you how to drive.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s ridiculous you don’t have a license. Besides, you’ve got…what? Twenty-two hundred saved up from the movie theater?”

“Twenty-three,” he said. “Dad won’t let me spend it.”

“Well, Eileen’s selling her Saturn for twelve.”

Mike cackled. “Dad would shit.”

“Yes, he probably would.”

“Speaking of Eileen…why aren’t you guys moving in together?”

“Move in together? We’ve only been dating for a few weeks. We haven’t even had…um, talked about it yet. We haven’t talked about our future, I mean. If we’re exclusive.”

“Do you think she wants to be?”

“I don’t know. We’re just playing it cool right now. So… what will it be?”

Mike watched the storefronts zoom by. “Fuck it. Why not? It’ll piss my parents off enough.”

“That’s what I like to hear. We move in Friday.”

“Friday?”

“Yeah.” He laughed.

“You idiot. What if I said ‘no’?”

“You didn’t.”

“But what if I did?”

“I knew you wouldn’t.”

“How?”

“Because you need this as much as I do.”

Mike couldn’t disagree. “Well, can I see the place, at least?”

* * *

“No, no, no.” Mike shook his head as they drove through Raynham’s shadow.

“Just wait,” Dennis said, easing the car up the hill.

“Does it get any less creepy?”

“Don’t puss out on me now, Mikey.”

He snorted. “Looks like an insane asylum.”

“Used to be a tuberculosis hospital.”

“What? You didn’t tell me that.”

“What’s it matter?”

“I don’t know. It’s just…

“Creepy.”

He nodded.

Dennis laughed. “You’re such a pussy.”

“I’m not a pussy.”

“Yeah you are.” He shoved Mike’s shoulder.

Mike shoved him back. “Fuck you.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, Mike. I didn’t know your vagina was hurting.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Dennis parked the car. “Beats being a pussy.”

“Hey, is that Eileen?”

Dennis followed Mike from the car and raised a hand to shield against the setting sun. A young woman pulled a broom and dustpan from the trunk of a green Saturn. Her blond hair was pulled into a ponytail and the gray sweatshirt and paint-splotched jeans hid her shape, but Dennis recognized her car.

“Yeah, that’s her. She’s gonna help us clean up a bit.”

Eileen smiled and waved the dustpan in the air. She ran up and threw her arms around Dennis’ neck.

She kissed him. “The drive here sucks.”

Mike snapped his head forward and walked toward the building.

Dennis pulled his lips away. “Not in front of Mike,” he whispered.

Her brow wrinkled and her eyes narrowed, but she nodded. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Dennis smiled and grabbed the broom. He took her hand and headed up the stairs to the courtyard. They passed Mike, who shuffled along staring up at the tower.

“Hey, Mike,” Eileen said.

“Hey, Eileen,” he muttered, eyes still scanning the building.

“Good to see you.” She flashed him a smile.

“Yeah. You, too.”

When they were a good distance in front of him, Eileen leaned in close to Dennis. “As charming as ever…”

He pinched her hip. She squealed and slapped his shoulder. They laughed.

“Cut the kid a break. He’s—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” She surveyed the statues as they passed through the courtyard. “Boy, you weren’t kidding about this place.”

“Told you so.”

“Bet it’s haunted.”

Dennis laughed and opened the door for her. “You think every place is haunted.”

“They probably are.” She walked inside. “We just can’t see by what.”

* * *

Mike paused in the courtyard, eyes drawn to the statues. There was a quality to them that suggested flesh, some sculptor’s technique that crafted the illusion of blood pumping through veins beneath the marble. Maybe it was the way their bodies twisted, or the coy smiles and lusty glares. He had never been with a woman, but the statues somehow captured most of his fantasies.