Traplines (17 page)

“What’s the matter?” Mike said, jogging in place.

“It’s her,” Tom said, stepping back inside, out of Paulina’s sight.

“Man,” Mike said. “She is way too old for you.”

“Do we have a problem, ladies?” Greigerson bellowed across the gym.

“No problem,” Mike said cheerfully. “Just taking a breather.”

“Drop and give me twenty-five. Maybe that’ll improve your lung power.”

Mike muttered, “What a fucking—”

“Do you have a problem with that, McConnell?”

Mike put his hands up. “No problem here, sir. You got a problem with that, Tom?”

“Nope.”

“I could just as easily make it fifty, smart-ass.”

Tom dropped and had done ten push-ups by the time Mike was ready to do one.

“Shit,” Mike said, wiping the floor. “My new shorts too. Slow down, man, you’re making me look bad.”

“He’s watching,” Tom said, not looking at Mike.

“So? Let him. What can he do?”

“Mr. McConnell!” Greigerson bellowed. “I said give me twenty-five!”

Mike did army push-ups while Greigerson was watching and girl push-ups when he wasn’t. Tom counted off his last five, then stood and shook his arms out.

“Wait for me,” Mike said.

“And get another twenty-five?”

“Twenty-four, and five, and done!”

“You bullshitter,” Tom said, laughing. “He’s not going to believe that.”

Mike grinned. When they started laps again, Greigerson said nothing.

“I can’t believe you got away with it,” Tom said.

“It’s all in the mind,” Mike said, tapping his temple.

“It’s all in the bullshit, you mean.”

“If you can talk, ladies, you’re not going fast enough,” Greigerson said as they ran by him.

“I bet he’s got a swastika over his bed,” Mike muttered.

When Tom passed the open gym doors, he could see Paulina looking at him. He almost dropped dead but managed just to stumble a bit and bump into Mike.

“What the hell?” Mike said.

“Look.”

“What?”

“Wait till we go by again.”

Tom slowed as they went past the doors. Paulina waved. She’s looking for Jeremy, he thought. Come on. Breathe.

“Mazenkowski. Bizarre chick,” Mike said.

Greigerson yelled at them to pick up the pace. A stitch was starting in Tom’s side. He slipped outside, carefully closing the doors.

Paulina was smoking on the steps. He pushed his hair back, stopped, and was about to turn around and go inside when she looked up.

“Hi,” she said.

He desperately needed to sit down. “Hi.”

She held out her cigarette, offering him a drag. He shook his head. “We’ve probably got to run for another six hours. It’d kill me.”

“If you were a girl,” she said, “all you’d have to do is lean over and say, ‘My cramps are totally bad today. I am, like, gushing.’ Seriously, Greigerson can’t take that shit.” She laughed. “One month I had my period six times and he never even asked for a note.”

Tom was shocked, horrified, and delighted. He was sitting
there beside her and she was talking to him. She was close enough that he could see the delicate fuzz on her face. The sun made her hair glow like silk. She power sucked the cigarette down to its butt and flicked it onto the ground.

“Jeremy said you did some pot,” Paulina said. “You know where I can get some?”

Tom blinked. “Pot?”

“Yeah. Just a baggie. I don’t get paid this week. Just to unwind, you know.”

“Sure,” Tom said.

“Sure you got some or sure you like to unwind?”

“Both,” Tom said.

“Can I take some off your hands?” She smiled at him and if he’d had any on him, all of it would have been hers.

“Sure,” he said, amazed his voice wasn’t cracking. “It’s in my locker.”

“Your locker?” she said incredulously. “Are you nuts? What, you want to get caught?”

Tom opened his mouth and nothing came out. He couldn’t speak.

“You’ll learn,” she said, smiling again. “What’s your last class?”

“Bio.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you on the drive.”

Tom bit his lip. “What about Jeremy?”

“What about him?”

“Are you, um.” He cleared his throat. “You know, seeing him?”

Her smile became forced. “With a little therapy he’ll be capable of acting like a fucking human being.”

Tom said quietly, “What did he do?”

She opened her mouth, then hesitated. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” She stood up and brushed herself off. “I’ll wait for you at the bus stop. Don’t forget the stuff.” She pecked him on the lips. Her mouth was soft. He floated inside.

“Greigerson wants to see you,” Mike said.

Tom touched his lips. “She likes me!” He whooped and spun around.

“Whacked,” Mike said, and shook his head.

Things were better at Mike’s house. Evan let him in even though Patricia’s expression was ominous. He played Street Fighter II with Mike until dinnertime but decided not to test Patricia’s patience and went home.

Paulina had met him at the bus stop. Tom couldn’t remember what they’d talked about but she’d laughed at something he said. And then, after he gave her the pot, she’d kissed him again, in front of people. She’d said if he had any more, he could bring it to a party some friends of hers were throwing.

It was a great day. The sky was pale blue. He hadn’t seen Jeremy for three days. Jeremy had paid the phone bill before he left. All they had to worry about now was Mastercard and Visa. And next month’s rent. Still, they were better off than they had been. He’d had a good interview at Red Robin’s for a prep cook. The guy there had known Angie, his old boss. They had talked about Chuckie’s, about school, just chatted. He rolled his bike into the elevator. Someone must have mopped it, because the piss smell was gone.

“I’m home!” he called out.

“Tom!” his mother said, excited. “I’ve got a surprise for you!”

He left the bike where it was. “What?”

Aunt Faith and his mother were sitting together on the couch. Tom stood frozen in the entranceway.

“Thomas,” Aunt Faith said. “Look how handsome you are!”

“Come kiss your aunt,” his mother said.

“Aunt Faith,” Tom said.

She held her arms out and he went to hug her. She was thinner than he remembered. Her hair was gray and her face had deep lines he hadn’t seen before. Her head shook slightly, wobbled on her neck like it was loose.

“You look like your grandfather,” Aunt Faith said.

“Jeremy flew her in,” his mother said. “We’re going out for dinner. All of us.”

The look she gave him was hopeful.

“I’ve got homework,” he said faintly.

“Oh, pooh,” his mother said, waving her hand. “This is family!”

“You work too hard,” Aunt Faith said.

Jeremy wasn’t at the restaurant when they got there. Aunt Faith and his mom walked in, arms linked. Jeremy wasn’t mentioned. Tom knew it was just a matter of time.

Before dessert arrived Aunt Faith went to the bathroom. His mom held his hand and said, “Faith says it really was an inheritance.”

Tom stared at their hands. “Is he moving back?”

“No,” she said. “No, Tommy. Faith says he’s just with a bad crowd right now. I saw him today. He said he was sorry. That’s a good sign, don’t you think?”

He couldn’t meet her eyes. She let go of his hand. “Faith says Jeremy hasn’t spoken to his father in two years. They used to be so close. Your cousin’s just lost and hurt right now.”

“So why doesn’t he call him up or something?”

“Tommy—”

“No, no, I’m serious. Why does he have to hang around here?”

His mother looked hurt. “He’s
family.
”

“He’s got
four
brothers! Why can’t he stay with one of them?”

“They were always very competitive. If you had a brother you’d know what it’s like.”

“What’s to know? It’s not like he just forgot to send you a birthday card. He’s a drug dealer, Mom.”

From her disappointed expression, he knew he’d pushed it too far. She was probably still thinking about a happy Hallmark Christmas back east. And now she was the heroine who’d brought Jeremy into the fold again. “I don’t think he’s a bad person,” Tom said. I think he’s a fucking lunatic, he thought.

She smiled a lopsided smile. “He is a bit of a handful, isn’t he?”

“Is Aunt Faith staying with us?” Tom said.

His mother hesitated. “Yes.”

“That’s great.” Jeremy wouldn’t do anything with his own
mother in their apartment. “She can have my room. I’ll take the couch. How long is she staying?”

“A week,” his mother said happily.

“Tell her to stay as long as she wants.”

His mom looked surprised. “Things are turning our way,” she said. It was more like a question.

“Yes,” Tom assured her. “They are.”

When he came back from school the next day the entertainment center was once again set up in the living room.

Tom couldn’t sleep that night and he couldn’t concentrate enough to do homework. He couldn’t stay in the apartment either. He considered taking his bike but thought that it might make too much noise and wake Aunt Faith.

He slipped out the front door and took the stairs. The halls had been repainted the halls and for a few days they’d be clean. Then Wayne or Willy would start again.

The clouds hung low. The weatherman had been promising rain for the last week but there had been only drizzle. When he was near the park, a woman yelled, “Hey, Tom!”

He didn’t recognize her at first because she was blond now and wearing a tight black micro mini and a bikini top instead of her usual schoolgirl-gone-bad outfit. She waved him over to her corner. He crossed the street to say hi, happy to see her. She peeked behind him.

“Did you know you’re being followed?” she said.

He whirled around. Jeremy’s car was at the curb. Jeremy honked.

“Goddamn it,” Tom said. He marched up to Jeremy’s car
and hit the hood. Jeremy backed up. Tom stooped for a rock and threw it at the windshield. “Fuck off! Just fuck off!”

Jeremy braked, thrust his door open, and leaped out. Carefully he examined the windshield, then eyed Tom. “You don’t touch my car.”

“Get out of my life!”

“Meep
-badda-
meep-meep,”
Jeremy said, infuriatingly smug. “Make me.”

“You seriously need help, you wacko.”

“Come on, get in. It’s too late for you to be wandering around by yourself. I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Piss on you.”

“Tough guy, huh? Come on, Tommy-me-lad, let’s go a few rounds. Put up your dukes!”

Tom clenched his fists, turned, and started to walk away. Jeremy revved the engine. Tom heard the car coming up behind him but he thought Jeremy would stop. Instead the car bumped him hard and he fell.

“Go home!” Jeremy yelled.

When Tom tried to stand up, his ankle gave out. He heard the door open. Jeremy stood over him.

“This kind of thing wouldn’t happen if you didn’t piss me off,” Jeremy said, putting his arm under Tom and helping him up.

Jeremy drove him home. Tom couldn’t speak. He was so furious he was shaking.

“Your mom invited me to dinner on Thursday,” Jeremy said, as if everything was all right, as if he hadn’t tried to run him over. “See you then!”

Tom watched Jeremy drive off. Not if I can help it.

His ankle was strained and ached for the next three days. On Thursday night Tom waited outside the apartment. Jeremy buzzed up and disappeared inside. Tom climbed the stairs cautiously. He stopped in front of their door and listened. The voices were faint. They came from the kitchen.

He opened the door slowly and poked his head in. The hallway was clear and Jeremy’s jacket hung neatly by the door. Soundlessly Tom pulled out the car keys.

His heart was hammering hard. He felt like he was breathing through a tube. Hard to catch his breath as he slipped back out the door and made his way downstairs.

Tom stopped at apartment 206 and knocked. Thrasher music was coming from inside. The door opened. A bald guy with a dragon tattoo on his neck scowled at him.

“Is it safe to talk?” Tom said.

“I’m not selling till I’m off parole.”

Maybe this wasn’t going to work. Tom swallowed. There was no going back now. He took the car keys out of his pocket. “There’s a 1992 Jaguar XJS in parking space 16. Can you take care of it?”

Wayne or Willy yanked him inside and closed the door. “You the owner?”

Tom shook his head.

“You live upstairs?”

Tom nodded.

“What kind of cut you want?”

Tom said, “How much is fair?”

“Seventy-five me, twenty-five you.”

Tom pretended to think about it. He was just about to agree when Wayne or Willy said, “Listen, man, I’m taking all the fucking risks here.”

“It’s my cousin’s car. He’s upstairs. The security code for the car is 1017. He’ll be there for another hour or two.”

Wayne or Willy chuckled. “Your cousin, hey? Fuck, you’re cold, man.”

Tom smiled grimly. “We all have bills to pay.”

Tom opened the apartment door just as Jeremy was coming down the hallway. Shit, Tom thought, fingering the fake set of keys Wayne or Willy had given him.

Appearances, Wayne or Willy had said. You got to play the game smart.