Soul Catcher (9 page)

For me, it started when Patrick asked me to deliver an envelope to Laura. It was a plain white envelope with her full name typed on the front. He said it was a love letter from one of the boys, and no one was supposed to know, and he couldn’t tell me because he was sworn to secrecy. I accepted that. Kids were passing love letters for each other all the time. Even Patrick and I had couriers deliver letters when we were fighting or just wanted to be romantic. So I handed the envelope to Laura, and that was that. Then he
gave me another letter for Alison. The next one was for Louise, and I assumed it was from Jimmy. That was all, nothing else happened, until Rawlene, Amy and Nicole got permission from the dorm parents, who got their permission from Silver a, to throw a party in Upper Girls to which selected boys would be invited.
Selected
boys meant boyfriends and whoever else would be considered an asset to the fun. I was elected to the party committee, along with Gwen, Janet (the oldest girl in the dorm), and Lee Lee (who was extremely disorganized but had a lot of enthusiasm). Rawlene, Amy and Nicole were too busy practicing the new Be Here Butterflies routine to help with the planning, even though the party was their idea.

Working on the party excused us from activities for two afternoons. That meant no Sex Group! As we planned, the Be Here Butterflies put on some
Earth Wind and Fire,
linked arms, and danced. They were in search of a new step. Every now and then they’d agree on a combination, and would practice it over and over. Then they’d trip over each other’s feet for a while in search of the next move. Meanwhile, we sat on the floor in a corner of the lobby — our living room — drinking tea with honey and making executive decisions. The first thing we did was make a list of the boys we’d invite. Every official boyfriend was invited right off the bat, but there was some dissention as to whether we should also invite the boys who we knew as a fact to be in the process of mutual flirtation with one of the girls, or who were the unknowing objects of some girl’s desire. The problem was that someone might be excluded who should have been included, and vice versa. Finally we decided to invite only actual boyfriends, but would also spread the word among the girls that special requests would be accepted.

The decor would be the best of the rock ‘n roll posters from the girls’ rooms, candles, and Gwen’s lava lamp on the mantle piece. For refreshments we would serve pretzels, potato chips, onion dip, Wheat Thins, nut-rolled cheese ball, and fruit punch.

That night, before lights-out, we held a special meeting to announce our plans and ask for suggestions. We added carrot sticks to the menu, substituted Triscuits for Wheat Thins, and got permission to get the kind of cheese ball with streaks of red wine running through it. We told the girls that, as we’d be going to the mall tomorrow to get the supplies, they had until morning to put suggestions into the box on the mantle. This, we added, included special guest requests.

Seven slips of paper were left in the suggestion box. One said
John Reilly
in handwriting I recognized as Gwen’s. I smiled when I saw the slip, and she punched my arm. After that, the word was out: Gwen liked John! Another slip contained a recipe for champagne punch using ginger ale instead of champagne, which we voted to use instead of fruit punch. Another slip said
Ford Highway
which we discounted as a joke. And the remaining four slips said the same thing:
Eddie Cohen, Eddie Cohen, Eddie Cohen, Eddie Cohen.
Two were hand-written in different inks, two were typed.

Eddie didn’t have a girlfriend, and no sane girl would ever admit to liking him. We decided that since none of «5 liked him, since we all believed he would detract from the party, since we had trouble believing that four of our dormmates were infatuated with him, but since four slips had named him, we would cite ethical deadlock and put the matter to our dorm parents.

We met in Pam’s room after classes, with Pam, Ted and Jimmy. Pam leaned against the radiator cover in her raspberry pantsuit which clung to all the wrong places such as her saddle-bag hips and stomach roll. Her arms were folded across her chest, and she tapped her foot nervously; her whole body seemed to say
let’s get on with it.
Ted was at the other extreme, calm and patient, sitting on a chair in the corner, stroking his fluffy beard with stumpy fingers. Jimmy was Jimmy: smallish, thinnish, moderate, and unconcerned with how fast things got done.

Lee Lee, a pretty girl with thick black hair down to her shoulders, sat in the middle of the floor nervously removing
and replacing her hair clip. Janet, tall and blond, stood over her. Gwen and I leaned against the door.

‘So,’ Ted began, ‘what’s up?’

‘Oh, let’s just invite him!’ Lee Lee said.

Janet’s forehead crunched. ‘What?’

‘What are we talking about, here?’ Pam said.

‘It’s about the party,’ I said.

Gwen said, ‘It’s about Eddie-the-asshole-Cohen.’

Jimmy laughed. ‘Oh!’

‘What about Eddie?’ Ted asked. I just knew he was thinking back to Sex Group, to the outburst between Eddie and Laura. We all knew that Lee Lee was Laura’s best friend.

Lee Lee shrugged.

‘Lee Lee, why don’t you tell us what this is all about,’ Ted said.

‘I’ll tell you,’ I said. I leaned forward and started to say, ‘He —’ but Ted cut me off.

‘I’d like to hear it from Lee Lee.’

Lee Lee shrugged. She looked embarrassed. ‘I did it for Laura,’ she said. ‘She asked me to.’

Pam became interested. ‘Did what?’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Did what?’

Janet knelt down and placed a hand on Lee Lee’s shoulder. ‘Did you put those slips in the box?’

Lee Lee nodded. ‘But only two of them! She asked me to make sure he got invited.’

‘I think I understand,’ Ted said.

Suddenly I recalled what Patrick told me. ‘Why is Eddie on probation?’ I asked. And then I remembered the letters Patrick had asked me to deliver, and realized they must have been from Eddie. I didn’t know what he was writing to these different girls, but since I’d delivered the letters, I thought it was time to keep quiet, and just listen.

‘How did you know about that?’ Pam said.

I shrugged.

‘What’s going on?’ Janet said.

‘Gwen,’ Ted said, ‘knock on Gene’s door and ask him to come up here, please.’

‘Sure,’ she said, and left the room. She was too quiet; Gwen did not obey mysterious orders without asking why.

‘And why don’t you go get Laura,’ he told Lee Lee.

Later, we were told that because Eddie’s name had been put in the suggestion box, we had to invite him to the party. They knew all four slips were phonies. But we did as we were told.

By the time we had the party on Tuesday night, the whole dorm was abuzz with the mystery. No one, though, admitted to knowing what it was about. All I knew was that Eddie was on probation, and Patrick was acting as courier (and so was I!), and Gwen knew something too, and for some reason poor sad Laura was sending out
help
signals.

We decorated the lobby with streamers (a last minute thought), candles, the lava lamp and snacks. Gwen lit a stick of spicy incense. I had been begging her to fill me in on what was going on with Eddie, but all she would ever say was, ‘Nothing.’ And when I asked her if she had put the other two slips with Eddie’s name in the suggestion box, she laughed hysterically and rolled her eyes and said,
^l
Oh please,’
but she didn’t answer.

Patrick was the first boy to arrive. He had on his good jeans and a turqoise shirt that made a neon contrast with his orange hair. He looked so handsome. I wore a red sweatshirt, my oldest jeans and a choker of silver circles like connected infinity signs. I borrowed red lipstick from Gwen.

‘You look great!’ Patrick said. He kissed me, right there in front of all the girls. They whooped and cheered and clapped. He kissed me again. I felt like the luckiest girl in the whole dorm, and maybe, just for that moment, I was.

Soon the lobby was full of boys and girls and laughter and buzzing talk and music and dancing and smoke. That awful smoke! I had to escape to the hallway periodically to get
away from it. Patrick would stay inside and have his cigarettes then.

I was sitting on the steps just outside the lobby door when Eddie appeared. I was surprised to realize he hadn’t been at the party yet.

‘Need a friend?’ he said.

I shrugged. ‘Not really.’

‘Good,’ he said, and sat on the step beneath me.

His face looked tight and shiny, like he’d just scrubbed it, and his wavy hair was slicked down.

‘Where’s Patrick?’

‘Inside.’

‘How’s the party?’

‘Why don’t you go in, Eddie? You were only invited by about a million different girls.’

‘Would you feel comfortable going in there if you were me?’

I shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

Eddie looked at me straight-on, eye-to-eye. It was so unlike him, it disarmed me. I almost had a sense he could be trusted.

‘I guess not,’ I said.

He leaned back against my knees and said, ‘Anyway, it’s nice out here.’

I tried to get up, but he put his arms around my knees and started kissing them.

‘Eddie, don’t!’

He stopped abruptly and shook his head. ‘I can’t do this to Patrick.’

‘Patrick? What about me?’

‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘sorry.’ Then he stood up, opened the lobby door, and disappeared into the cacophony of the party.

I went back inside to find Patrick. He was leaning against the wall near the door. I wanted to tell him what had just happened, but before I had a chance, he said, ‘Look!’

The Be Here Butterflies stood in front of the fireplace in
matching red dresses trimmed with black sequins. They were lined up according to size: first Rawlene, then Nicole, then Amy. The music blasted
HEY
and they clapped and spun in place. They were perfectly synchronized, for once. They lunged, and swung their hips, and shimmied their shoulders. Nicole belted out Diana Ross’s song:
STOP! in the name of love
... Everyone was watching them. They were magnificent, more inspired than ever, this time really
with it.
Just when they were building up to their finale — arms spread, bosoms up — Eddie jumped in front of them and shimmied backward until his knees touched the floor. A roar of booing egged him on, and he jerked his hips forward. Rawlene landed a kick on his shoulder, and he toppled over to laughter and applause.

‘What an ass,’ I said.

Patrick looked at me steadily, deciding, I thought, whether or not to agree with me. I wanted him to break Eddie’s trust and tell me why he was on probation, what was going on with Laura, everything. Patrick’s face was a spot of intense quiet in the midst of all the noise. Finally he said, ‘I dunno,’ and shrugged.

Patrick knew something. There was a big secret and he was deliberately keeping it from me, and Eddie knew that and had jerked me around in the hall for fun. It may have been fun for him, but not for me; and it was even less fun to feel Patrick was lying to me by withholding some important truth. Why wouldn’t he just tell me? What could be so bad?

I could see Gwen’s silhouette in the dark. She was sitting on her bed, and each time she turned her face toward the window her somber expression was bathed in pearly moonlight.

‘Gwen,’ I whispered.

She didn’t move; she was like a statue.

‘Gwen.’

‘Shh. Listen.’

I angled up on my elbows, and listened. First, it was all
silence. Then I heard voices in the lobby. There were at least three, maybe four.

‘Who is it?’ I whispered.

^l
Shh:

She glided silently to my bed and sat down next to me. Leaning very close, she whispered, ‘It’s a conspiracy.’

Her hair tickled my face and I turned my head. She leaned toward me. “They’re going to turn him in.’

‘Who?’

‘Shh.
They’ll hear us.’ Her breath grazed my cheek as she lay down next to me.

‘But Gwen,’ I whispered, ‘what do you have to do with it?’

‘Nothing and everything,’ she said in a soft, throaty whisper. Then she mumbled, ‘I’m sorry,’ and fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up and thought it was all a dream: Eddie on the stairs at the party, and then Gwen, later, so mysterious in our room. The shower was running, and when Gwen came out of the bathroom wrapped in a white towel, I asked her.

‘What are you talking about?’ She leaned over and shook out her wet hair.

‘Who was in the lobby? Why were you upset?’

‘You better get in the shower before it’s too late.’

It was almost seven-thirty. ‘Tell me later?’

‘Okay.’

But
later
never materialized. Instead, she left it to Silvera to shock me along with everyone else that night.

After dinner, as always, Silvera stood to make announcements. He was wearing black polyester slacks, and a big red turtleneck over which his ever-present butterfly medallion hung like a badge of the wise. His hairy navel was visible between the end of his shirt and his belt buckle. He paced, his black eyes fixed intensely on the floor. He chewed his mustache and stroked his beard. He let the tension of his silence suffuse us. Then he stopped and turned around, his eyes jumping from table to table.

‘School meeting at nine-fifteen!’ he said. Then, curtly, ‘Dismissed!’

School meetings were always bad. Routine matters were covered in after-meal announcements; special meetings to convene the whole school meant it had to be serious.

On the way up to the dorms to change for study hall, questions about the purpose of the school meeting were passed from person to person, couple to couple, group to group, like a stick in a relay race. No one had the answer, or would admit they did. By the time we all gathered in the dining room for the meeting, the whole school was buzzing with curiosity.

All the tables were pushed to the sides of the room, and chairs were scattered in a loose, layered circle. The room was filling up. Patrick and I hurried to find two seats together. We ended up by the door of the dishwashing room, where Crazy Hal stood in the doorway with a rag over his shoulder, his rotten tooth showing through his smile.