California Diaries # 11: Dawn III: Missing (7 page)

HE’S HERE!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday morning 3/6

I thought that when I sat down to write about last night and the concert

and Pierre I would just scribble blissful y for a page or two. I didn’t realize I would have such a story to tell.

But I do.

And it’s going to take awhile to tell it.

Here goes.

I’d been watching out my window for Ducky’s car. I saw it pull up to the

curb between Sunny’s house and mine. Even before I could turn away from the

window, Sunny was flying through her front door and across the lawn to the car.

(I tried to see what she was wearing, but it was too dark.) The car pulled into the

driveway.

I ran out of my room, down the hal way, and into the living room.

“Ducky’s here,” I announced. I tried to sound formal and staid. I thought if I

sounded too excited I would somehow also sound irresponsible. I stood before

Dad and Carol in my outfit.

“Well. Don’t you look, um…” said Dad.

“Don’t you look ready for a concert!” said Carol brightly.

The doorbel rang. (I had told Ducky that Dad would want to talk to him.)

Dad and I answered it together. I stood on the front stoop, chewing my lip, while

Dad ran through al my “rules” with Ducky and then quizzed him on what he

would do in certain emergency situations.

Ducky passed the test and we were allowed to go to the car. To my dismay

I saw that Sunny was sitting in the front seat, which meant that she could control

Ducky’s radio (if it worked). I had decided not to bring a backup sound system,

but I was counting on being in charge of the radio. Oh, well. I sat directly behind

Sunny, where it would be harder for her to see me. It didn’t matter. She swiveled

her head around like an owl and greeted me with, “Did your Dad have a nice talk

with Ducky?” (I could hear the smirk on her face.)

Before I could answer, Ducky swung himself into the driver’s sear and

punched a button on the tape deck. Music blared.

“Careful, Ducky,” said Sunny. “Dawn’s fether might hear that and make her

stay home.”

Ducky reached under his seat and produced a baseball cap, which he

clapped on his head with the bill facing directly to one side. “Mr. Schafer has no

power here,” he said to Sunny in an accented voice. “So becalm your fears.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Becalm?” I said. “Is that a real word?”

“On my planet it is,” Ducky replied.

We picked up Amalia without incident and were on our way.

“Now, this is nice,” said Ducky as we edged onto the freeway a few

minutes later. “Just me and my girls.”

He was smiling the loveliest, happiest, most genuine smile.

Sunny turned to Ducky and flashed him an equally lovely smile. I realized

that the evening must have been as important to her as it was to me, but for

different reasons.

We made it to the concert without a single cross word between Sunny and

me. This was because we didn’t talk to each other at all, but that was fine. Ducky

parked his car and we walked toward the club.

My funky earrings were in place. I was ready to go.

Saturday afternoon 3/6

A huge long line of people stretched out the entrance to the club and along

the sidewalk. Each one looked cooler than the next. And I would have to say that

the average age was about 20.

I was SOOOO glad my father couldn’t see this.

“Do you have the tickets?” I asked Ducky.

“You think he has no brain, don’t you,” said Sunny. A statement.

“Yes, I have the tickets.” Ducky shot Sunny a Look.

I ignored her.

We joined the line, which crept along, snail-like. When at last we reached

the door, one person collected our tickets while another guy held out his hand

and said, “ID?”

My heart leaped right into my mouth. I turned wildly to Amalia. “We need

an ID to get in?” I whispered loudly.

Sunny heard me and snorted. “Not to get in,” she said witheringly. “It’s

because they serve liquor here. If you have an ID, which means you’re old

enough to drink, then they give you a bracelet, and inside, the bartenders will

only sell liquor ro people wearing bracelets.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling foolish. But I frowned. The system seemed flawed to

me, and sure enough, the moment we were inside, Sunny looked around and

said, “Now, who can I buy a bracelet from?”

While Sunny was looking for a bracelet, I was looking for a pay phone. “I

have to cal my father,” I reminded Ducky.

He helped me find a phone, I called Dad, and then we rejoined Amalia and

Sunny (who was stil not wearing a bracelet).

“Did your daddy say you could stay awhile longer?” Sunny greeted me.

“Or did he decide he’d better come and get you?”

I smiled sweetly at her. “Oh, Sunny,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

She looked at me sharply. “About what?”

“About your father. That he’s so wrapped up in your mother that he doesn’t

care what you do.”

Sunny had opened her mouth to say something, and Amalia and Ducky

were just staring at me, when we were interrupted by this guy who turned out to

be a friend of Ducky’s brother.

“Hey! The Duck Man!” He clapped Ducky on the shoulder.

“Hi, Rick,” Ducky replied unenthusiastically.

Sunny’s eyes headed straight for Rick’s wrist – which sure enough sported

a plastic bracelet.

Before Sunny could ask about buying the bracelet, Rick asked, “Can I get

you guys anything to drink?”

“Oh…no,” I replied. “Thanks.”

“Come on,” said Rick. “Just a little something to help you relax and enjoy

the show. Don’t be shy.”

I wasn’t being shy. I was picturing my father, who, I was sure, would be

waiting at the door when I came home. I didn’t want him to know any of us had

been drinking. Then it occurred to me that he’d probably only see Ducky and me.

I didn’t have to worry about what Sunny and Amalia did.

“Just a Coke for me,” said Amalia.

“Me too,” said Ducky.

“Seltzer for me,” I said.

“Well, I’d like a rum and Coke,” said Sunny.

“One rum and Coke, two plain Cokes, and a seltzer? Come on, live a little.

Ducky, my main man, let me get you something stronger.”

“Yeah, Ducky, go ahead. Friends don’t let friends drink alone,” said Sunny.

“Well…” Ducky was hesitating, looking interested now.

I cringed and glanced at my watch, trying to calculate how long before we

were in the car again and whether Ducky would be in any condition to drive then

if he had a drink now. I watched Ducky’s face. I could see him thinking over the

turmoil of the past weeks – Alex, Sunny, Sunny’s mother…

“Well,” said Ducky again, “sure. I’l have something. Just to relax. How

about a –”

Rick didn’t let him finish. “I’l be right back,” he said.

Rick disappeared into the crowd. We stil hadn’t found our seats, and now

we had to stay where we were until Rick came back. I peered around. We were

standing in a busy hallway. Two bars were set up in it, one at either end. Between

the bars was a set of double doors leading into a much larger room. I stood on

tiptoe and tried to see into the room, which was dark and smoky. The room was

jam-packed with tables and chairs, and at the far end was a stage. I closed my

eyes. Soon I would be in there, gazing at Pierre on the stage.

Later Saturday afternoon 3/6

I had to give my wrist a rest before I continued. Also, Amalia just called to

find out how much trouble I’m in. I was glad to hear from her. Since I’m grounded,

I can’t make any phone calls. I’m surprised Carol let me talk to her, since I’m not

al owed to take cal s from my friends either. Amalia must have been pretty

persuasive. (She’s good with adults.) Anyway…

Soon Rick came back with five drinks in a tray. He handed the tray to

Ducky, removed one of the drinks, accepted some cash from Ducky, and walked

off, cal ing, “Later!” over his shoulder.

I looked at the plastic glasses on the tray. One was a Coke and one was a

bubbly seltzer (I hoped); two were clear liquid and smel ed very strong.

“Hey, I said I wanted a rum and Coke,” Sunny complained. But she

reached for one of the glasses of clear liquid and sipped it anyway. “Not bad,”

she said.

Gingerly, I reached for the seltzer I smelled it before I sipped it. The truth?

I would kind of like to have had a little something to drink, like I did at the fateful party at Ms. Krueger’s house, but I knew that if Dad so much as suspected I’d

been drinking I’d be grounded until I was 30. My seltzer just smel ed like seltzer,

though, and tasted like it too.

I watched Sunny and Ducky to see how quickly they drank their drinks,

whatever they were, and was pleased that they just sipped at them like Amalia

and I were doing.

“Okay,” said Ducky, “let’s find our seats.”

At long last we entered the big room with the stage. A girl wearing a Jax T-

shirt showed us to a long narrow table, which seated twelve people. She

indicated four seats at one end and we sorted ourselves out. Sunny and Ducky

sat next to each other, and Amalia and I sat across from them.

I tried not to look at Sunny. Instead, I looked around the room, mentally

rating people’s outfits. No one rated lower than “extremely cool,” except possibly

me.

Ten minutes went by, and Rick and a girl with a shaved head materialized

next to us.

“How are the drinks holding up?” asked Rick. The girl loped her arm

through his. Possessively, I thought.

“Oh, just fine,” I said quickly. “No problem.”

But Sunny’s glass was empty except for the ice. “All gone!” she said,

holding it up. She smiled.

Rick smiled back at her. “What’ll it be, then?”

“Mm, how about a tequila sunrise this time?” Sunny paused, then she

said, “No wait. Hold the sunrise.”

“A shot of tequila?” said Rick, and he arched an eyebrow ever so slightly.

“Perfect,” said Sunny.

“Duck Man?” asked Rick. “Are you relazed yet?”

Ducky’s glass wasn’t even empty, but he said, “I’ll have a shot too. Just

one, though.”

“How restrained of you,” I muttered. I couldn’t stop thinking of the bad time

Ducky was going through. I also couldn’t stop thinking that he was our driver. And

he had just made a mil ion promises to my father.

“Ducky?” I said, leaning across the table.

“Yeah?” Ducky leaned across the table too, and our heads met in the

middle. Then Amalia and Sunny leaned in to hear what was going on.

“Nothing,” I replied.

Even later Saturday afternoon 3/6

The shots of tequila arrived, and Ducky and Sunny knocked them back. I

have to admit that I didn’t know that was what you do with a shot-drink it down in

one gulp. IN ONE GULP. I have tasted strong liquor (like tequila) and it’s hard

enough to sip that stuff. I mean, it’s so…so alcoholic. It burns your throat and

makes your eyes water. How can people chug back a whole big slurp at once?

But that’s what Sunny and Ducky did with their shots.

I watched them. I waited for their heads to become disconnected from

their necks or something. But nothing much happened. Even so, I felt compelled

to try to say something to Ducky again. I waited until Sunny had turned around

and was talking to someone she knew from school, and Amalia was watching the

warm-up act set up their equipment. Then I said, “Ducky?”

He leaned forward again. “Yeah?”

“You promised my dad you’d be a safe driver.”

“I know.”

“But you’re drinking.”

Ducky looked at his watch. “This’ll be totally out of my system by the time

the concert’s over. Trust me.”

“Okay.”

The truth was that Ducky sounded fine. And he looked fine. So did Sunny.

I sat back and decided not to let any of this ruin my evening with Pierre.

Ten minutes later the warm0up act finally began. It was this group of three

guys and a girl wearing more ripped clothing than I have ever seen in my life. It

was SO ripped that if you’d put it al together it would have made, like, one T-shirt

and one pair of jeans.

They sang really loudly and the whole time they sang they jumped up and

down. Not bouncing a little in time to the beat but actually jumping, like in gym

class. How could they do that and play the instruments at the same time? I

looked at Amalia and could see she was trying to figure this out too.

The noise level in the room was rising. The band was growing louder, but

not many people were listening to them. They were still trying to talk to each

other, so now they were shouting.

Rick returned and brought Sunny and Ducky each another shot of tequila.

Ducky looked plenty relazed to me.

After about 45 minutes the group (whose name I still don’t know) played

their final group jump, and one of the guys threw his tambourine to the floor.

Then he picked it up and threw it out into the audience. The girl who caught it

waved it around over her head, but the room was so deafeningly noisy that you

couldn’t hear it at all.

The lights came up and a flurry of activity began on the stage. The group

removed their instruments and equipment. Then new equipment was set up. It

was set up very quickly, and each piece was marked JAX.

A thrill of excitement rushed through me.

When the lights dimmed once again, everybody grew absolutely silent. I