Wintertide: A Novel (13 page)

I knew it was a mistake to agree. But
I was worried it would be a bigger mistake not to. I felt acid churning in my
empty stomach. I would have to see Eddie again. I closed my eyes and leaned my
head back. "Fine. I'll go."

"Good,” Seth said, sounding
relieved. “We'll play along with whatever he says. It will be fine."

"Where does he want to
meet?"

"At the garage where he works."

I shook my head. "I can't
believe I'm agreeing to this."

"You'll have to drive. My mom
needs her car tonight. I'll try to ask her if she knows how that guy's doing
when I get home."

I nodded realizing that there was
only one hospital in the area. Of course, he was in the hospital where Seth’s
mom worked.

I sat silently while Seth navigated
the quiet roads back to my house, wondering how I’d become mixed up in this
terrible mess. I never thought I’d see Eddie again after high school. Why had I
gone with them that night? As I opened the car door, allowing a blast of cold
in, Seth put a hand on my arm. "Just remember not to antagonize him,
okay?"

"Do I look suicidal to
you?" I asked, pulling my arm away.

A sardonic grin crossed his face
before he put the old station wagon in gear and drove off.

As soon as I turned the doorknob
and stepped into the warm entryway, my mother came at me. "Daniel, why did
you rush off like that? What's wrong with you, being rude to your father last
night and acting so strange this morning? Where did you and Seth go for over an
hour on Christmas day when every place in town is closed for the holiday?"

I sighed. "Could you repeat
the first question?"

She reached up and touched my head.
"Oh, your hair is still damp. Come in the kitchen and have something warm
to drink."

I reluctantly followed her, trying
to cook up some feasible place that we might have gone. But there was no need. Mom
provided the answer herself. "You weren't feeling well were you? I could
see it in your face this morning. At least you had the good sense to come right
back home. Although, I thought you knew better than to go out into the bitter
cold with soaking wet hair. You'll just have to stay inside the rest of the day
and take care of yourself. You don't want to have to call in sick to that
professor. Not after he offered you a job for next semester."

She made hot tea and toast and sat
with me as I consumed both. Despite my reluctance to admit this, it actually
felt comforting to be taken care of. I knew my mother was at her best when she
thought I needed her. I almost felt relaxed, until after she wiped down the
table, pushing the bread crumbs into the wrinkled palm of her hand, when she
casually brought up that newspaper article again. Obviously, she had been
turning the story over in her head all morning. "Do you know what I think,
Daniel?"

I childishly pretended not to hear
her.

"Daniel?"

"What," I finally said
softly.

"Do you know who I think broke
into that house?" she asked, sitting down across from me, resting her arms
on the table and leaning forward in her seat.

"Who, Mom?"

"That McKenna boy,” she stated
looking proud of herself. “The one you went to high school with."

My eyes darted to hers.

"What was his first
name?" she asked.

"Eddie,” I replied, feeling my
toast trying to make a reappearance. "Why would you think it was him?"

She spoke as though it were
completely obvious. "Well, he's the only resident criminal I know of. He's
been arrested you know? For drunk driving. And this past fall, someone
sideswiped a girl on a bike, knocked her down and just kept right on going. A
witness said he saw the McKenna boy's car driving away. The police talked to
him about it. They didn't arrest him though. I suppose there wasn't enough
evidence. But everyone knew he had obviously done it. I was right not to let
you hang around with him. He's trouble and everyone knows it."

Seth had been right on the money. If
my mother was any indication, it did seem that fingers would point toward Eddie.
I should have confessed right there and told my mother exactly what had happened
and how sorry I was. I could clearly imagine how she would react, angry at first,
then sympathetic. She would ride with me to the police station and stand by me,
a pillar of the community, while I told them everything I knew with a
tearstained, regretful countenance. Instead, I took a glass of ginger ale with
me upstairs and asked Mom to wake me up for dinner. I retrieved another one of
the pills from my jacket pocket in the closet, swallowed it with the ginger ale
and laid myself down on the bed waiting for sleep to take away my thoughts.

I came aware slowly in the darkness.
I was disoriented. My head felt heavy, my mouth was dry, and my tongue felt
swollen and foreign. At first, I thought I was in my dorm room. But when I sat
up, the outline of my window across the way brought the walls and furniture
into perspective. I was at home, in my bedroom and in the middle of a horrible
mess. I stood up so quickly my head pounded in response to the abrupt movement.
What time was it? I switched on the light, squinting against its brightness and
brought my watch close to my tired eyes. It took a moment to focus. It was just
after nine thirty. I’d slept all day. I pulled on a sweater and grabbed my
wallet.

I dashed downstairs and found my
mother asleep on the couch. There was no sign of Dad, and it didn't appear as
though any preparations had been made for dinner. As I was quickly scribbling a
note to her, Mom woke up.

"Daniel, how are you
feeling?" she called from the living room.

I turned around quickly, coat and
keys in hand. "Fine. The nap really helped. Seth and I are going to grab
something to eat. I was just leaving a note for you."

She looked flustered. She stood and
approached me, rubbing her eyes. "What time is it? I can't believe I slept
so long. I was only going to close my eyes for a minute or two. Won't you let
me cook something for you? There's some hamburger in the freezer, or
maybe...."

"Thanks, but I'm meeting Seth.
You look tired. You should rest."

"When will you be back?” Her
eyes were red and bloodshot.

"Not too late," I said as
I headed to the door.

She followed me. "This time, put
your coat on, Daniel."

I shoved my arms into my coat and
dashed to the car. I really wanted to brush my teeth and drink about a gallon
of water. I yawned several times as I backed out of the dark driveway and drove
far too fast towards Seth's house. The cloud cover remained and no stars or
moonlight were visible.

The heat finally came up in the car
as I pulled in front of Seth's house. Hot blasts of air blew onto my feet and
chest. Seth jogged out of his house and jumped in quickly, shaking the Buick up
and down under his weight, spilling ash onto the floor from the full ashtray I
kept uselessly reminding myself to empty.

"You're late," he said
breathlessly. "Jeez, you look like hell."

"Thanks,” I replied.

“So, I sort of casually brought it
up to my mom this afternoon. You know, about how the guy who was beaten the
other night was doing. She told me that his doctors don't seem to think he's
going to make it. He's in a coma."

I only nodded as I stared at the
dark road, once again hearing the thump of the poker striking the man’s head.
Initially, I was going to tell Seth that my mom had just taken a very good
guess at who had committed the crime. But I changed my mind.

I had passed the garage hundreds of
times before, but I had never really looked at it. It had no name. I suppose
when you're the only game in town, you don't need one. It was a long narrow
structure lined by four garage doors, painted red. Out front there was a small
island with two gas pumps. The place looked dark and deserted when I pulled
into the lot and parked in front of the narrow doorway on the side that Seth
indicated. When I turned off the headlights, the doorway disappeared into
darkness. Then a light came on illuminating a tiny rectangular window at the
top of the entrance. When Seth and I got out of the car, the entrance door
creaked open a foot or so. Seth walked toward it motioning for me to follow. I
gripped my keys tightly and shoved my hands into my coat pockets. Seth ducked
inside, and I did the same, allowing the door to close behind me.

The office, which was obviously the
tiny square room we were in, had a metal desk, a swivel chair and an old
stained green couch. It smelled like a combination of gasoline and stale
cigarette smoke. A fluorescent light lined the center of the ceiling, and the
only window was located on the door. A calendar was stuck to the wall above the
couch. For the month of December, there was the stereotypical glossy color
photograph of a naked blond with huge breasts. She wore only a fuzzy Santa Claus
hat and a pair of high-heeled red boots.

Eddie was sitting Indian style on
top of the desk, a six pack of beer beside him. He ripped off a couple of cans
and tossed them at us as we came in. I noticed his spiky hair, his ripped jeans,
his paint-stained sweater and his dark eyes rimmed with bluish circles.

"You look like shit, Dan,"
he said to me.

I ran a hand over my scratchy cheek.
"Thanks, Seth already informed me of that fact.” I opened the beer which
foamed down the sides over my fingers and took a long deep drink.

Seth plopped down onto the stained
couch. I pulled the chair out from the desk not wanting to be beside Seth on
the couch. When I sat down, I set my beer down on the floor beside me.

Eddie’s eyes traveled between Seth
and me. "I really screwed up,” he began, “and I’m sorry you both had to be
there to see that.”

I looked over at Seth. He glanced
at me briefly, not returning my skeptical expression.

"I was drunk and pissed off,”
Eddie continued, “and suddenly there was this guy standing there who wasn’t
supposed to be there and I don't know, I guess I just lost it.”

He looked up and stared right at
me, almost defiantly, daring me to contradict him. I didn't look away. I
silently returned his stare. After a long moment, he turned to Seth. "So
does your mother know anything else?" he asked.

"No, only what I've already
told you."

"It still doesn't look like
he's going to wake up?"

"No."

He turned to me again, placing his
hands on his knees. "Look, Dan, we may not have always been the best of
friends, but I don't wish you any harm and I'm sure you don't wish me any
either. If we all keep quiet about this, it will just blow over eventually. The
whole thing was just a horrible accident. I'd change it if I could, believe me
I would, but I can't.”

"Do we know his name?" I
asked.

"What?” Eddie looked at me
suspiciously.

"Did either of you read the
article in the paper? It must have given his name. I know he has a wife, and
he's from Connecticut. Does he have any kids?"

"No kids," Seth said,
sitting up a little straighter on the couch. "His name is John something.
It's an Italian name. John Benedetti, I think."

"Benedetti," I repeated
softly.

Eddie unfolded his legs and hung
them down over the desk, softly kicking the grey metal with his boots. "I
think there's something else we should talk about,” he said in an offhand way.
“If the police start asking us questions, we have to be ready."

"Eddie?" I asked, already
knowing the answer, but wanting to see what he would tell me. "If no one
saw us, why would the police start asking us any questions?"

"I'm not saying they will. But
just in case, we should be prepared."

"Why would they even want to
talk to us though?” I continued, feeling Seth's eyes on me.

Eddie banged the desk with his
heels a little harder, emitting a tinny echo. "Look," he said, some
of his control slipping, "any time something happens in this stupid town,
the police want to talk to me about it. You get stopped for driving a little
drunk one night and suddenly they think you've committed every crime in the
history of South Seaport."

"So you didn't hit a girl on
her bike with your car?" I asked. I was baiting him. I knew it was stupid
but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

A flash of anger crossed his face. "You
see what I mean? No, I did not do that.” He glared at me.

“Let’s just relax,” Seth said from
the couch. "So you're pretty sure the police are going to talk to you
eventually,” Seth said to Eddie seeming to want to move the conversation along.

 Eddie hoisted his legs back onto
the desk, crossing them Indian style again. "Yes and  when they do I'm
going to tell them I was with the two of you, and we were nowhere near that
house."

“So where were we?” I asked.

“After we left the Southside Tavern,
we went over to the sea cliff. It’s within walking distance of the bar. It
explains our cars still being there after the place closed.”

Seth started nodding, agreeing with
Eddie as was our plan. Then Eddie looked at me. I didn’t nod. All I had to do
was move my head up and down, but I couldn’t seem to make it move.

Eddie continued to eye me, waiting
for my reaction. "You know," he finally said, his dark eyes studying
my face, "we’re the only ones who really know what happened that night. If
you decide to tell the truth, Dan, you'd be admitting to actually being there. Seth
and I could say you did it. It would be our word against yours."

Seth leaned forward. "Cut it
out, Eddie. We’re not going to say that."

"I'm just letting Dan know
exactly how it is."

I wasn’t surprised. This was the
Eddie I knew. This was what he’d wanted to say since we’d walked in the door.

"Dan's not going to go to the
police." Seth was standing next to Eddie now. “There's no need to start
threatening each other. We're all friends here."