Traplines (16 page)

“Scared you, huh?” Jeremy started channel surfing. “Your security system sucks. You need a dead bolt.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought we needed to talk.”

“About what?”

Jeremy’s face lightened in amusement. “Oh, I don’t know. The plight of the Amazon rain forest. The possibility of starting a colony on Mars. Maybe some golf tips. Should I use wood or aluminum clubs to get out of a sand trap?”

The TV burst into a jingle for a brand of toothpaste. Jeremy hunted for the remote. He turned the set off and the living room went black. The silence stretched.

“Guess I came down heavy on you, huh?”

Tom’s eyes adjusted to the dark. Jeremy had leaned his head so far back on the lounger that he was facing the ceiling.

“You could say that,” Tom said.

“You should have said something,” Jeremy said. “Instead of lying to your mother.”

“I didn’t,” Tom said.

“You think I’m a pusher?”

“Aren’t you?”

Jeremy laughed. “Kid …” he started. His hand moved to his shirt pocket. His lighter flared to life. He lit a cigarette. “Fuck. What a life.”

“Where’re you getting all your money then? Tell me that. You don’t even have a job.”

“I got clients calling me all day, twenty-four hours a day. You’ve seen them, haven’t you? I’ve got cops following
me, and I spend my money like it’s going out of style. Yeah, I’m a drug dealer. A really smart one too.” After another long silence Jeremy said, “For fuck’s sake, kid, I’m being sarcastic.”

Tom felt the beginnings of a headache. “I know.”

Jeremy turned the TV back on. In the flickering light he looked tired. Tom lay back on the couch. He put his arm over his eyes. The possibility that Jeremy was okay crossed his mind. He put it down to being tired.

“My dad’s dad died. He hated everyone except me. He had a lot of money. He left me everything. End of story,” Jeremy said.

“How’d he get his money?”

Jeremy looked disgusted. “Aluminum. He bought aluminum shares during World War II. My blood type is A negative. Anything else?”

“Why’d he give it to you?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

Tom narrowed his eyes.

“I was in his old regiment,” Jeremy said slowly, through gritted teeth. “And everyone thought I’d go far.”

Tom said, “So?”

Jeremy stood up and saluted. “There has always been a Rieger in the army, ever since the plains of Abraham. And by God, there will always be a Rieger in the army.”

Jeremy sat down, looking moody and pissed. Tom wanted to ask more questions but thought he’d wait until Jeremy was less strung out.

Tom heard the telltale snore and turned his head. Sure enough, his cousin was out. He thought of what his mother
would say if she came through the door and saw Jeremy sleeping there.

But she’s not here, is she? a part of his mind said.

He was tired of thinking. There was a strange comfort in Jeremy’s snoring. He’d gotten used to it. It was easy to slide into sleep hearing that.

Tom woke up first. Jeremy had made his way to the bedroom sometime during the night and was sprawled over the bed. Tom carefully picked up Jeremy’s jeans and jacket and went through them.

Jeremy had some keys, his wallet, a comb, and a pocket-sized computer organizer. Tom glanced at Jeremy, still dead to the world. Tom opened the wallet. It had Jeremy’s driver’s license and a bank-machine receipt between two fifties. Jeremy had taken out $460.00 the night before. The balance in his account was $127,894.73.

Tom put the slip back in the wallet, then the wallet back in the pants. So he’s not a millionaire. He was blowing his money and it was going to run out. That made Tom feel better. Still, $127,000. He couldn’t imagine having that much money. If he had it he sure wouldn’t blow it.

Jeremy shifted, and Tom waited. But his cousin stayed asleep.

Maybe he hadn’t seen the figure right. Maybe it was $2,700. He knew he was just being nosy now. He knew that if he was caught he was going to be in trouble, but his fingers itched to take the wallet out and look at it again. He found himself doing it, watching Jeremy carefully.

The wallet was thin. Jeremy had a membership at Movie
Madness, a library card from Metro Toronto Public Library, and a photo of some kid that Tom slowly realized was him.

He pulled it out. He didn’t remember it being taken. He was sitting in front of a birthday cake with eight candles. On the back, in his mother’s writing, “Hi Jeremy! We’re doing well. Vancouver is nice. All my love, Aunt Christa.”

He put the picture back in place and slipped the wallet into one of the pockets. In his haste to get out of there, he forgot which one he’d taken it from.

Tom went to the kitchen. When Jeremy came in and sat across from him a few minutes later, he knew that Jeremy had been faking sleep. He’d known that Tom was going through his wallet and had let him do it.

“I’ve got letters too,” Jeremy said. “You want to see them?” With a malicious smile he said, “Or should I leave them in my wallet?”

Tom’s face went red; he felt the flush spreading but couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t look at his cousin anymore. He stared at his hands.

“You could just ask me,” Jeremy said. “Wait.”

He left the kitchen and came back with a pen. He drew something on his fingers and Tom leaned toward him to see what it was. It was faces. Jeremy held up his left hand. He’d given the index finger an extra large blue mouth. No, a bruised mouth.

“ ‘Jeremy,’ ” Jeremy said in a high squeaky voice, “ ‘what the fuck do you want?’ ” He held up his right hand. “Well, kid. I’m here to rob you of all your worldly possessions, kill you, and inherit your vast fortune. ‘But I don’t have a vast fortune, Jeremy!’ Whoops! Wrong kid.”

Tom found himself laughing. “You are truly strange.”

“ ‘Come on, Jeremy. Be serious. What are you doing here?’ I’m family, kid. Isn’t that enough?” The finger-Tom picked up the pen and bonked the finger-Jeremy over the head. “ ‘Get real! Like I’m going to believe that!’ ” Jeremy looked up. He moved his finger people in front of his face. “I want to help.”

“Why?” Tom said.

“When we were kids you thought I was your brother.” Jeremy wiped his hands on the table and the finger puppets smeared across the surface.

“Right,” Tom said, snorting.

“It’s true.”

Jeremy looked down at his fingers. “Your mom wrote me all the time. She was always bragging what a good kid you were. Did you know that? I can show you the letters.”

For once, Jeremy looked completely serious. “No. It’s okay.”

Jeremy didn’t smile. “Is it?”

“Yeah,” Tom said. “It is.”

Jeremy dropped him off at Mike’s. Tom didn’t feel like spending the day with his cousin. He told Jeremy he was going over to Mike’s to study. Mike was in the backyard shooting hoops. He stopped and stared at the car. He whistled.

Jeremy said, “I’ll pick you up later.”

“I know how to get home,” Tom said. “Hey, Mike. This is my cousin Jeremy. Jeremy, this is Mike McConnell.”

Mike didn’t move.

Jeremy saluted, then got in the car and drove away.

“Jaguar XJS coupe, 1992,” Mike said. “Only three silver cars that year. You never said your family was rich.”

“He is,” Tom said. “I’m not. Is it safe to go in?”

Mike mugged exasperation. “About as safe as a nuclear plant. Man, they are so fucked. Do you know how much it’s worth?”

“What?”

“The car.”

Tom shook his head.

“He buy you those clothes?”

Tom looked at Mike, who was suddenly thoughtful. “The haircut too.”

“What a fucking weirdo,” Mike said.

“You don’t even know him.”

Mike shook his head. “I know a fucking weirdo when I see one and he is a fucking weirdo.”

Patricia had not thawed yet, so they stayed outside farting around. Mike couldn’t leave the yard because he was grounded for two weeks. It made him edgy and hard to be with.

Mike went in to get them Pepsis. Tom waited at the picnic table. He saw the kitchen curtain move and felt uncomfortable, the way he had in the beginning when he’d first started hanging around with Mike and Patricia had thought he was a bad influence.

Mike came back and handed him a can. Mike popped his and chugged it in one gulp, then burped, loud and long.

“You could be a fucking foghorn,” Tom said, trying to lighten the mood.

“You know my mom,” Mike said, ignoring him. “She was real nice. But every night she put me in the tub and poured Lysol over me.” Mike crushed the can on his knee. He burped again. “Want to stay for dinner?”

“Can’t.”

“Watch yourself,” Mike said, with his usual zigzag logic.

Tom was glad when Jeremy showed up and honked. Mike watched him leave with such a solemn expression Tom almost laughed. As they drove away, Mike held up two fingers in a victory sign, then pointed them at his eyes. Tom grinned. He’d completely forgotten that, their secret language. Abort Mission, it meant. They’re on to you.

“Jail by twenty,” Jeremy said, looking in his rearview mirror.

“What?”

“Thug material if I ever saw it,” Jeremy said.

“He’s okay,” Tom said.

Jeremy shook his head. “You won’t trust me, but you’ll trust that?”

He didn’t want to make a big thing out of this. “Mike’s a good guy.”

Jeremy turned the radio on.

Tom insisted, “He’s just had some bad breaks.”

“Who hasn’t?” Jeremy said.

Screw you too, he wanted to say. Jeremy left him off in front of the building. Tom didn’t know what to think of either of them. Tired and disgusted, he went up to make himself dinner.

Jeremy dragged him out of bed sometime after midnight, high and happy. Woozy, Tom tried to get out of his grip, but Jeremy dragged him into the kitchen.

“Coffee?” Jeremy said.

“What time is it?” Tom said. “Do you even know what time it is? I’ve got an eight—”

“Whine, whine, whine,” Jeremy said. “Nope. Don’t you dare leave this room. You’ve got to stay here and keep me company.”

Tom put his head in his hands and yawned. God, the only thing worse than a drunk is a druggie.

“You’ve got to tell me what it feels like,” Jeremy said.

“What?”

“You know.”

Tom glared impatiently. “What? I’m not a mind reader.”

Jeremy winked. “You know.” He fell off his chair and started jerking around.

“Fuck,” Tom said, starting to leave. “Fuck you.”

Jeremy leaped up and blocked his way. “So? Tell me.”

“Why don’t you jump out that window, land on your head, and you can find out for yourself.”

Jeremy whooped and ran around the kitchen.

“Fuck,” Tom said, spooked. “Fuck, you’re gone.”

Jeremy hopped up on the counter. Suddenly he turned serious. “I dropped you on your head, you know.”

Tom said, “I’m going back to bed.”

“I was babysitting and I pushed you and you fell down the
stairs.” Jeremy toppled over, landed with a thunk on the kitchen floor and didn’t move.

“Jeremy?” Tom said. “Jeremy, quit screwing around.”

Jeremy stayed sprawled where he was. Tom went over to him and nudged him with his foot.

“It’s not funny, Jeremy.”

Jeremy pretended to convulse. Tom left him there, thrashing on the kitchen floor, and went back to his room.

He was dozing when Jeremy hopped on him. “Say you forgive me?”

Tom tried to push him off, exasperated. “Oh, for—Jeremy, it wasn’t your fault. I was epileptic way before you started babysitting me, for Christ’s sake. Get off!”

“Really?” Jeremy said.

“Really,” Tom said. “Now can I get back to sleep?”

Jeremy looked weepy. “You’re a good kid, Tommy boy. You’re a super kid.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m great. Now get off. Please. Pretty please.”

“I’m going to watch out for you. Yes, I am.”

“Jeremy, what the hell are you on?”

“I’m high on life!” Jeremy shouted.

“Life, huh?” Tom said.

“And you’d better listen to me,” Jeremy said, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t know what kind of freaks are out there. You know what they can do to you? Do you?” He put his hands around Tom’s throat and squeezed just enough to make him lose his breath. “Are you going to listen to me?”

Tom nodded, trying to pry Jeremy’s fingers off.

Jeremy let go. “Good. Good. No more tricks. No more
lying. Don’t you go lying about me to your mother. You hear me?”

Tom rubbed his throat. “Yes.”

“You be good.” That said, Jeremy stumbled out of the room.

When he woke up, Jeremy was gone. Tom borrowed some tools from a neighbor. He talked the guy at the hardware store into giving him a cheap deadbolt. When his mom came she could damn well pound on the door to wake him up. He wasn’t putting up with Jeremy a minute longer.

That night he woke when he heard a key in the door.

“Tom!” Jeremy shouted. “Tommy! Wake up! The door’s locked. Tommy!”

He pounded on the door until one of the neighbors yelled down the hall that he was calling the police. The pounding stopped. Tom closed his eyes and exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

And that is that.

Paulina.

Tom stopped at the open gym doors, hesitating.