The Gingerbread Boy (29 page)

Catherine shuddered. She’d felt it, too.

Suddenly a figure brushed past the living-room doorway, disappearing into the kitchen.

Joanne cocked her head at Catherine. “That was Daniel.” She scrunched her eyebrows together. “I’ve got to find out what’s going on. I’m going into the studio to talk to Joey.” With that, she got to her feet and walked out of the room. Catherine rose to follow, but then turned toward the kitchen instead of the studio.

If Daniel were in the kitchen, he’d talk to her. He always talked to her.

But Catherine walked toward the kitchen with a hesitant step, thinking of what Joanne had said about the tidal wave. Something was wrong, very wrong. When she stepped into the kitchen, she fell back in shock.

Squatting on the floor in the shadows, his back pressed against a cupboard, sat Daniel. He stared aimlessly ahead with his hands clutched loosely across his knees, his eyes listless and lost.

Catherine cringed as Daniel turned toward her. Part of her yearned to rush in, to fling her arms around him and ask what was wrong, but his stare rooted her to her spot. She rested her hand against the doorway for support.

“Daniel,” she asked hesitantly, her heart hammering, “What’s wrong?”

Daniel continued to stare. Not a muscle moved on his sweat-soaked body.

Catherine took a tentative step forward. “Please tell me what is going on.” She took a few more steps. “I want to help you.”

Daniel turned his head and held his hand up in a ‘stop’ gesture. “You should go. You shouldn’t see me like this.”

Catherine shook her head. “You need me. You helped me when Hazel died, it’s my turn to help you.”

“No,” Daniel said more firmly. He then turned to gaze at her, and Catherine had never remembered seeing such creases beneath his eyes.

“I’d like you to leave, Catherine.”

Catherine tilted her head, puzzled. “Leave? You mean leave the kitchen?”

“I mean leave the house. Go home.”

Catherine’s throat tightened. “You don’t mean that! We need to talk about this.”

Daniel pulled his hands over his face. “I can’t talk to you now.”

“But Daniel, I…”

“I mean it!” Daniel snapped, startling Catherine enough to jump. Then he stretched upward enough to fumble something out of his jeans. Keys. The awkwardness of this feat made his face redden with frustration. Finally he tossed the keys to her, then slumped back against the cupboard. “You can drive Bruiser home. I’ll come get it later.” He once again looked her directly in the eyes with that eerie, mechanical stare, and Catherine’s heart went cold. “And Catherine, about the concert Saturday. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be there.”

Catherine’s jaw fell. A buzzing began in her ears. She tried to move her mouth to protest, but only a sputter came out as her mind refused to form words.

“I wish I could explain,” Daniel added. “But I can’t. Please don’t beg me to.” Then he buried his head in his arms.

Catherine struggled to control the pounding of her heart, the stinging in her eyes. The keys burned like fire in her hands.

You must be drunk,” she cried at last, knowing full well he wasn’t. You don’t know what you’re saying!”

Daniel looked up at her one last time, but didn’t have to say anything again. The frightening look in his eyes said it all.

Catherine gulped, and took a step backward. Then another, and another, grasping the walls to keep from stumbling. Then she turned and ran out of the house.

Chapter Thirty

Catherine pushed the curtains aside and pressed her face against the window.

The driveway where Bruiser had been parked was now empty. So, Daniel had used a spare set and retrieved it early enough not to confront her. Fine. If that’s the way he wanted to be, then so be it! The tears were drained out of her.

She closed her eyes and fought against the sluggish knot of pain twisting around her heart like a worm. She had never seen Daniel act the way he had the night before. He’d been like a different person. And what he’d said was incomprehensible.

He didn’t want her to come to the concert. A concert right here, at the MSU Soccer Field, a place she could easily walk to.

It made no sense. Zero. Zilch!

She opened her eyes once more, tightened her robe. She must force this out of her mind. She had so much to do, mind boggling amounts of homework! She had a major exam today, and would have more next week. These grueling exams were the genesis of her career. She would harden her heart
,
push Daniel out of her mind, and try to get through to this Friday. This mess would have to get figured out later.

Catherine was ready to turn away and get dressed when something beneath her car’s windshield wiper caught her eye. Something that hadn’t been there the day before. She squinted down at it. Something small and white. A note glowing in the morning sun.

She sprinted out of her room, pounded down the stairs, and burst out the back door to her car. A sharp piece of gravel jabbed into her bare foot as she peeled the object out from beneath the wiper, tearing it slightly in the process. Her eyes widened. She recognized a wrinkled, scrawled-on napkin from Looking Glass Café. The penmanship was large and clunky, definitely Daniel’s. She glanced around to see if anyone in the neighborhood was watching her shivering out here in her worn yellow robe. The area seemed deserted, so she scurried to the back porch and settled on the bottom step.

Lightheadedness overcame her as she opened the napkin. She ached to read the cock-eyed mass of words spilling out at her in poem form and yet she was afraid to read them, too.

She drew a deep, shuddering breath. In another few minutes, she reasoned, staring blankly at the sky, if she read the napkin right away, she would either feel much better or feel much worse. She held the precious paper close to her heart, closing her eyes, praying for a much better feeling a few moments from now. Seconds ticked off before she was able to force her eyes downward. Then, with the warmth of the sun grazing the top of her head and the chill of the morning breeze coming through her sleeves, she lowered the napkin and read:

When I feel like this inside

The darkness I often try to hide

I become a prisoner, bound and tied –

Oh what is wrong with me?

You mean so very much to me

But wisdom slips away endlessly

Maybe it’s time to be set free

My lady, won’t you run?

I ask you this so you may see

How wise you’d be to run from me

I could take you so greedily

Please lady, won’t you run?

I long to say something now

To make you understand somehow

My words can never be enough

They’d only hurt you more.

You deserve love and all the rest

Your kind heart deserves the best

But you’re a fragile bird in a collapsing nest

I’m begging you to run!

And if you try to stay and fight

Battle your way for some insight

It will come to nothing in this bizarre sham,

Start running now – because I am.

And there was nothing more. No signature, no explanation, nothing but a coffee stain below the final line.

Catherine read, and then re-read the poem in a vain attempt to make sense of it. Then the memory of the morning on Chesapeake Bay when she and Daniel struggled in the sand, and how he’d begged her not to run rushed through her mind. Daniel said it was wrong to run, he knew because he’d done it himself. Now he was
asking
her to run?

A tear slipped down her cheek. Her hand went limp. Before she knew it, the breeze picked up and tore the napkin from her grasp and carried it away.

Chapter Thirty-One

Joanne shut the front door behind her and locked it. Catherine stood limply at her side.

“This is all because of Beth, somehow. It
has
to be.” Joanne grumbled, straightening her hefty frame. “That woman is evil. If I knew where she was living, I’d go after her with a crucifix and a stake.”

Catherine sadly shook her head. “I hoped Daniel didn’t believe I’d done those things to Cave Pig. But he must have, deep inside. He’s afraid of me, Joanne. I terrify him, and I can’t say I wouldn’t feel the same way if the shoe were on the other foot.”

Joanne thrust her hands on her hips. “That’s bull! Daniel knows you’re not a stalker or a lunatic. There’s more to this than meets the eye. I can see something else is going on by the looks on Joey’s face, but I can’t get him to say a word. Dopey southerner.” she muttered under her breath.

“We’re going to this concert, Cath, and you are going to hold your head high and look ol’ Robin Hood right in the eye, and if he gives you any flack, you throw that crazy shrunken head at him to put him back in his place!”

Catherine slid her hand into her jacket pocket and curled it around the ghastly doll Daniel had given her on this same porch. Once again, she could feel him pick her up, swing her around and around, and whisper, “I love you” in her ear. Those three little words haunted her. She’d felt he meant them. But now, as she tried to grope her way through this new and inexplicable misery, she wasn’t so sure about anything anymore. Daniel had once questioned time. Why? Maybe she should have pursued his ramblings more. Maybe if she’d paid more attention to his strange “identity crisis,” and worried less about her own problems with Hazel, and with her studies, she’d have seen this coming. Maybe…

“Snap out of it, Catherine,” came Joanne’s voice as they headed down the steps to the sidewalk. “You have to do this. I’ll be right there with you.”

“It won’t be easy,” Catherine mumbled gazing back at the section of porch rail she and Daniel had tumbled through. She tightened her grip on the shrunken head.

“It’ll be about as easy as riding uphill on a flat-tired bike,” Joanne replied, wrapping an arm around her friend’s shoulders, “But you can do it. Do it for Daniel’s own sake, if nothing else. He needs to get a grip.”

“Jo… what would I do without you?” Catherine asked. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you for all of your support.”

“Oh that’s easy,” Joanne sighed, “Just give me a wing of the Vanhoofstryver mansion for the summer.”

“It’s yours.” Catherine said. “You can have the whole thing. I don’t want it.”

“Then sell it. It’s probably worth a few hundred gazllion bucks.”

Catherine’s shoulders sagged. “I couldn’t do that, either. Nothing I do seems right these days.”

Joanne tapped her foot menacingly. “Why don’t you just go upstairs and take one of your two-hour-long scorching baths while I go to the concert alone?”

Catherine looked at her friend, stunned.

“It’d beat walking around like you are now, feeling doped out and sorry for yourself,” Joanne continued, hands on her hips. “You have a right to be upset, but you have a right to be mad, too. What is wrong with you, girl? I think I’m more upset about all of this than you are! Doesn’t it make you furious?”

“It’s hard to be mad at Daniel.” Catherine said. “Maybe not to be mad at Cave-Pig or Beth, but Daniel’s different. He’s…”

“Stop making excuses! He’s the jerk who treated you like crap two days ago and nearly made you bomb an exam! He had no right to do that!” Joanne’s face reddened, but her voice softened. “Look, Cath, I love Daniel, too, but he’s not perfect. When he does something wrong, let him know it.”

“You think it’s as easy as that?” Catherine asked her emotional roommate. “I know I should be furious. But there’s something else going on that I can’t quite figure out. Daniel shuffles around like an old man sometimes. He seems more tired than I’ve ever seen him. I have to put things into perspective. I have to figure it all out. Maybe he’s a closet alcoholic, or something worse.”

“Maybe he’s a closet bi-polar,” Joanne groaned, rolling her eyes. “or a closet junkie. Or a closet cross-dresser who knows? Who cares? It doesn’t give him a right to hurt people. Sometimes it is just best just to ignore all convention and manners, blow up and get it all out. Get mad, girl. Growl!”

Catherine glanced in surprise at her friend, who was shaking her fist and snarling at her.

“Like this, Cath! Follow my example. Grrrr!”

“Okay,” Catherine said, taking in a deep breath and letting it out. She nodded to herself, knitting her eyebrows together in thought. “I
am
mad. I feel used
.
Daniel was mean to me and I didn’t deserve it.” She straightened after admitting that, and felt something inside of her begin to unwind. Her face reddened as Joanne egged her on, continuing to snarl and growl and show her teeth as they walked, knots of students looking at them strangely as they streamed past down the sidewalk, most probably headed to the concert as well.

“This is one of the most important days of his life, and I have a right to be there,” Catherine said, “whether or not he thinks I’m some man-hating monster who’ll try to ruin him. He knows better! I’ve never showed him one sign of being like that. And if he does believe Beth, then he’s an idiot! He deserves her!”

Joanne’s eyes widened in delight. She snarled and shook her fists harder, pawing at the air as Catherine punched the air.

“This is Daniel! This is how he’s made me feel, and he should get a taste of his own medicine! He’s not going to get away with this. I’m going to find him backstage, and if he refuses to talk to me, if he just gives me one nasty look, wham! This little shrunken head fella is going to bounce off his forehead like a huge walnut and he’ll finally know I mean business!”

With that, Catherine yanked the doll out of her jacket pocket and flung it on the ground. She was just about to stomp on it when Joanne rushed to physically hold her back.

“That was
g-o-o-d
, Cath! Really good. Settle down now, though. You want Daniel to be able to recognize the thing you throw at him.”