Totentanz (24 page)

"Sure."

"You okay?" Pup's face came into view, and he
reached down a thickly coated arm to help him up. -Just let me stay
here a minute."

Pup looked at Reggie, and then Reggie said,
"Don't move, Jack." The next thing he remembered was being lifted
by strong hands, being slid into a warm bed under quilts and a
doctor peering down at him through huge bottleneck glasses, all of
this remembered in a half-sleepy way, and when he awoke, he found
that he had been asleep for almost two days.

This came back to him now; especially the
part about lying on the ground and just staring at the sky. Nothing
like that had ever happened to him again, and sometimes when he
thought about it, he felt as if it might have been a dream.

And until this moment, until this naked fear
had gripped him, he had never felt anything so intensely.

"Mom! Amy!"

The lights of the amusement park gleamed
before him, and a panic greater than the others seized him.
Suddenly he desperately wanted to see his mother and sister. He
wanted to bury his face in his mother's breast and weep, wanted her
soft hands to encircle him and hold tight. "It's all right, Jack,"
he wanted her to say, the way she had when he was little and hurt
himself, before the car accident that killed her and Amy. He didn't
even know if he wanted to be a Marine anymore.

He ran through the open gates of the
amusement park, nearly weeping. His mind was a jumble of confused
thoughts and memories. He wanted to be somewhere safe.

He ran past a red-and-white ticket booth with
a "Closed" sign slid down over the small window. He thought he
heard distant shouts but couldn't be sure. He rushed on blindly;
the shouting got stronger on his right and then, momentarily, on
his left, and then subsided into background noise again. There were
open tents to either side of him. A hot-dog stand displayed a
slowly spinning wheel of cooked wieners and a tall, crooked stack
of salted pretzels. He passed a cluster of kiddie rides; most of
them were silent, but one, a long caterpillar that curled around on
itself, was just starting to move. There were a few glassy-eyed
children and one or two adults aboard, and as the ride began, a
tarp curled over the caterpillar and covered the riders. As Jack
ran on, he heard a yell building.

He passed under the huge Ferris wheel and
into another maze of tents. There were a few small buildings
beyond that, a Fun-House entrance and a Bumper-Car arena, and then
he was at the wrought-iron fence of the amusement park.

He hit the bars and gripped them hard. He
sank to his knees, crying, balling his hands and rubbing his eyes
with his fists. He hadn't outrun the fear. It was still all around
him, in the whole town, the whole cemetery, the whole amusement
park. He called for his mother again, thinking that he wouldn't
move until she came to get him, to pick him up and hold him against
her. If his father came, he would stand up straight and try to be a
man; otherwise, he wouldn't move.

A voice called his name, but it was neither
his mother nor father nor sister, so he didn't look up. He was
afraid it was Reggie, and that made him cry even louder, out of
guilt.

"Jack, open your eyes."

He knew the voice, but he wouldn't open his
eyes. Who was it? Reggie? No. It was someone he knew, a friend, but
how good a friend? Was it someone he could trust?

"Jack, remember the Three Musketeers."

Now he knew the voice. Something loosened,
some screw that had been tightened all the way, and he began to
breathe and really think again. He opened his eyes.

"Pup!"

The word came out in a gasp of relief. If Pup
was here, maybe everything was all right. Pup, the lost Musketeer.
He couldn't face Reggie again, but with Pup here, maybe the fear
would go away. He and Reggie had given Pup up for lost, and here he
was, right in the middle of the fear, grinning down at Jack with
those all-so-bright, mischievous eyes.

"What's going on, Pup?"

"Plenty."

Pup turned away with a grunt, surveying with
quick eyes the amusement park behind them. Faint sounds could be
heard, shouts and the groaning of rides and, far off, something
that sounded like weeping and someone saying the name "Bobby?" over
and over again, all whipped away by a breath of wind.

"You seen my mom and sister?" Jack asked,
getting to his feet unsteadily. His whole body ached.

Pup spoke distractedly. He was looking off
between the tents, searching for something. "They're around
somewhere."

Jack stretched, feeling almost normal again.
He thought of the running he had done, and about having left Reggie
alone, and a true remorse took hold of him; he wondered why he had
run, what had possessed him.

"We've got to go help Reggie, Pup."

"Hmm?"

"I left Reggie in the churchyard by the
tomb." Pup's head swung around. "Is Reggie coming here?"

"I don't know, Pup. I left him there alone.
He really scared me good, more than those stories he used to tell.”
Jack lowered his head. "I ran off and left him."

Pup nodded vaguely, searching the alleyways
around them.

"You've got to come with me, Pup!" Jack took
a few steps away from the fence.

"I don't think so."

Jack stared at his friend, confusion
beginning to fill his head again. "What about the Three Musketeers,
Pup?" He held out his closed fist for Pup to place his own on
top.

Pup ignored the gesture. "We're going to have
to disband the Three Musketeers."

Pup was smiling. His eyes had stopped
wandering and were fixed on a point directly behind Jack's head.
Jack's neck felt very cold, as if threads were being drawn across
it.

You do it.

The words hung in the air. Jack looked around
quickly to see something dark moving away, beyond the wrought-iron
bars.

"Who was that—" he began.

"Someone's here for you," Pup said. His voice
sounded happy.

Jack turned to see his mother and sister
standing there quietly, looking at him. He took a step toward them,
but Pup's hand was on him, holding him back.

"No more Three Musketeers," Pup said. When
Jack looked again, his mother and sister were gone. The iron fence
had disappeared. The night was gone, too, replaced by a red
twilight, as if fires burned just over the horizon. The boys stood
on a black beach. Slow waves lapped at the shore, making sucking
sounds as they pulled out again. The tide was very low. There was a
thin layer of oozy mud between the dark sand and the oily, viscous
water. A strip of land was just visible in the distance; it swung
out from the left into the channel. In the bay there was a small
island with a tower or lighthouse on it. To the right of the
structure there appeared to be a shipwreck.

The scene looked vaguely familiar.

"Hear that, Jack?" Pup said, suddenly
anxious, and Jack walked down to stand beside him on the beach. He
barely detected a faint cry coming from the sinking, wrecked ship.
From this distance he could just hear the grind of the smashed wood
as the vessel was slowly pulled beneath the water.

"Someone's drowning!" Pup said.

Fear gripped Jack again, as it had in the
churchyard. He was immobile. He knew now that he could never
become a Marine, could never measure up to what his father wanted
of him. He didn't have it, after all. He had had it once, when he
had saved that little girl in the pond, but that had been a fluke,
a one-time thing where his body had acted before his chicken's head
could talk him out of it. Here it was, happening again, and he was
frozen. His head wouldn't let his body do the job. He was chicken
shit, and that was that.

"She's dying, Jack. Can't you hear her?"
Pup's voice was frantic.

Jack sobbed.

"Come on, we'll save her together,
Marine."

Pup began to take off his trousers and shoes,
pulling his shirt quickly over his head. His body was heavy and
white but firm, leaner than Jack had remembered from their
swimming days earlier in the summer. Pup stripped down to his
shorts, pulling his socks off and throwing them on top of the rest
of his clothes.

"Jack—snap out of it!"

They could clearly hear the pleas for help
now, pitiful, desperate. Suddenly Jack pulled his jeans off,
blocking the fear from his mind. What sounded like a last shriek
came from the sinking ship, and this was enough to spur him on; he
ran for the shoreline, not even noticing if Pup was with him or
not, and dove in.

The water was cloudy, and the bottom was a
layer of sticky mud that tried to anchor his feet, but he kicked
free of it and struck out for the center of the bay. The aches had
disappeared from his body, and he felt powerful. There were no
waves to fight; the water was calm but hard to swim in, as if
filmed with motor oil. He heard splashing beside him and glanced
over to see Pup's thick frame moving with effort a few yards back.
The sight of his friend banished the last doubts from his mind, and
his arms threw him ahead.

The upturned bow of the sinking vessel loomed
in front of him. Now he heard the wood grinding and the slap of
water against the ruined hull. It was slipping down into the water
quickly and would soon be submerged.

Pulling to a stop, Jack sought in vain for
the figure that had uttered the cry for help. With a sinking
feeling, he realized that she must have already been pulled beneath
the water. Pushing himself under the surface, he searched for
anything that looked like a human figure, but the mixture of bad
light and the sootiness of the water prevented him from seeing
anything. He moved a bit closer to the ship, taking care not to be
sucked into the undertow; again he dove but saw nothing. He was
about to surface when a flash of light caught his eye. Drifting
closer, he saw a roll of yellow fabric and two thin, kicking legs,
the feet in black pumps, disappearing into the sinking hold of the
ship. He rose for air, gulping.

He drove himself underwater again, kicking
downward till the deck of the ship clearly came into sight. A
wooden door flapped lazily in the water. He darted toward the
opening, grabbing either side of the frame. He peered in, seeing
only water-soaked objects—a chair drifting by as if it were
weightless, a coffeepot, a chart with the pen still attached by its
snakelike cord. Then the figure of a young girl became visible in
the murky light: a tuft of short yellow party dress, bare legs and
black party pumps with short white socks. A tangle of dirty blonde
hair trailed behind her head. He could not see her face because she
was swimming or drifting away from him, down through another
doorway that stood ajar at an angle like a fun-house portal.

He became aware of a hunger for air, a sign
that he would have to surface soon. He pushed forward, off the
lopsided wall, and made a grab for the girl's foot as she
disappeared into the other room. The tips of his fingers caught at
her heel and then let go. At that moment, as her movement carried
her away from him, she looked back, and he was able to see her
face. With a shock he realized that it was the McMasters girl, the
one he had saved in the pond. She was a few years older but still
the little girl he remembered. The look of pleading and recognition
on her face seemed all too familiar.

Her mouth formed the word, "Help."

Maybe I'll be a Marine yet.

There was a burning ache beginning in his
chest; he ignored it and pulled himself into the room after the
girl. It was even darker in here; his arm hit something as he
entered and he pushed himself away from a chest of some kind that
was floating free by the doorway. He could not see the girl. He
looked around wildly, an insistent hot hunger in his lungs now, but
saw her nowhere. Then, in the far corner, there was a flash of
blonde in the darkness, and a small hand came into view, held out
to him. He snatched at her arm, knowing that if he did not do this
quickly, both of them would be lost. He held onto it, but as he
pulled her toward him, there was a horrifying pull at her from the
other side, as if some huge sea creature had attached itself to
her. Before Jack knew what was happening, he was following her
through a hole in what had once been the floor. He felt the girl's
hand clutch at him in panic, her small nails digging into his arm,
preventing him from letting go.

His chest felt as if it was on fire; he was
surrounded by cold water, but he was burning up. His eyes ached.
He and the girl went down and down. Things he could barely see
passed him: a lamp, floating like a strange industrial fish; a pair
of shoes, laces tied; a large envelope with the words "First Class"
on it in big red letters, the gummed ends coming apart in the
water. He tried to pull free, but the girl's grip was too
strong.

As they passed through another doorway, Jack
threw himself sideways, jamming his legs painfully against the
door, and the downward pull stopped. He battled for the girl: the
thing on the other side of her pulled with equal strength, but he
held his ground. There was lava in his lungs, and he knew that in a
few moments he would breathe water and die.

He gave a mighty pull on the girl's arm, and
the thing on the other end let go. Immediately Jack turned and
began to swim upward wildly. The same objects, in slightly
different positions, went by: the envelope breaking apart, the
shoes, the lamp settling against a wall and bobbing slightly—and
then he was into the top room, then past the hold and onto the
deck. The girl's clutch on him was tighter than ever, which told
him that she was still alive.

He could make out the surface above him. The
ship had submerged completely, and he judged he had about forty
feet to go to reach the waterline. He kicked out furiously,
disregarding the pain that had spread from his chest to his entire
torso, filling him with lead.