Gravestone (41 page)

100. Driving

Good thing I’m not confused.

Because if I was, I might be driving really not so well on my way to get Poe and then—oh, I don’t know.

She’s the only one I trust.

I trusted Iris, but …

Don’t think about it don’t go there don’t Chris.

I don’t know what happened. With Iris or with Jared or with Poe or anybody.

Iris wasn’t in there there’s no way there’s absolutely no way.

I’d feel sick to my stomach, but I feel like I left my stomach and my wits and pretty much anything I have back there on the hill that has a still burning still raging fiery mass on top of it.

I really almost drove off the cliff when I started up the car. Not on purpose, but because I was driving so fast.

And because you don’t have a license.

But really.

I mean really.

I
want
someone to pull me over.

Please lock me up and throw away the key. I’ll do anything for that.

My mind races.

Jared—is that his real name? I seriously doubt he’s Uncle Robert’s son.

How could you be so dumb?

I replay the last, what, five months or so. I should have thought things through more carefully.

He shows up the moment I go looking for help after her death. He shows up with his stories and his lies and his advice.

Listen to me, okay? You have to lie low. For a while.

So that’s what I did.

I laid or lied low. I don’t know which one I did. I just know which one Jared did.

I trusted him while he
lied.

But what does Iris have to do with any of this? And why—why do this now? Why do this and leave me there to watch?

Everybody else around me gets hurt. But nobody hurts me. Not physically, anyway.

I don’t want to imagine something happening to Iris. It’s impossible. There’s no way. She was an old lady who wouldn’t hurt anybody. They wouldn’t do that to her. They couldn’t.

I drive through a maze of woods and wilderness and wonder if I’m some animal trapped inside, being watched like a guinea pig.

I think back to last night, about the smile and the sweetness that made me forget. Just for a moment.

Moments like that are good. They’re necessary.

They’re also like dreams. You wake and find them gone. You wake and find yourself driving in a nightmare. Just like now. Just like this.

101. Mad World

Then you arrive at Poe’s and suddenly find that you’re hovering over yourself watching in horror.

You see the cars outside, but still you park on the side of the street.

Two squad cars with lights still on.

Of course you think the worst. But you can see Poe on the lawn crying and being held by her mom.

You see her father talking to Sheriff Wells.

Someone approaches you as you walk toward them.

The sky is clear and you’re out of the woods and the heavens watch you.

Deputy Do-so-very-little Kevin comes over to you and stops you before you can go any further.

Now you’re screaming though it doesn’t really feel like it.

You’re shouting for Poe but she just looks your way.

Looks your way as if this is your fault.

But you don’t know what you did.

The deputy warns you to get back in your car and leave.

The sheriff looks over with little help.

No expression.

No expression.

Something happened.

You stand and look around and your world spins and swirls and you don’t go anywhere.

Kevin tells you to go home and wait. Go home and wait.

Sit and listen.

You look at Poe and see the tears in her eyes.

That’s all this town is and this story is and these secrets are … just one big bowl of tears.

You find it kind of funny.

You begin to walk back to your car.

You find it kind of sad.

You start up the car and look back and then drive.

You don’t want to go home.

You don’t want to go anywhere.

But you do what you’re told because there’s nothing left to do in this very, very mad world.

102. UNKLE

The song for the rest of the day is “Rabbit in Your Headlights.”

Just another find in Uncle Robert’s collection.

Just another find in this little room.

Just another song played over and over.

Just another theme for another life.

103. Summer Plans

I feel like a kid forced to go on those drugs for ADD and feeling now like a zombie. Motionless. Lifeless. Hollow. Spent.

Good thing that I have expulsion to wake me up.

“What?”

This is my life word. My life verse. My life summary.

“What?”

I’m sitting in Principal Harking’s office once again.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before.

I’m sitting there not just being accused this time, but being told.

“There are two options here, Chris. Making up for this year by taking summer school and retaking your failed classes, or being expelled.”

I think of a split cantaloupe and how they scoop out the brains—I mean seeds—before slicing it.

“Chris?”

“Yes.”

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

So far, this is what I
think
the principal has told me. We’re the only ones here—no cops or my mom or Gus or whoever.

First she tells me that it was reported that I pulled a knife on Gus in art. I don’t yell in my defense. Frankly, I’m too tired to yell. I think I laugh and tell her the truth. But the truth is some sickly orphan around this place. Nobody wants anything to do with the truth. Nobody.

The thin red line in front of me known as Principal Harking says in an automated fashion that since she can’t prove that I wielded the knife, it’s simply going in my file. On my record. Blah blah blah. Yada yada yada.

“But your grades are another matter.”

My grades?

She proceeds to tell me that I’m failing three classes.

Failing.

Three.

Classes.

French, which surprises me but not really.

Talk to the guy whose name is on the tombstone. He’ll help.

Algebra II, which does surprise me because I’ve been doing halfway decent.

And English, which is crazy.

“I can’t be failing three classes.”

But she shows me. She’s talked to the teachers. Since I’m a bad egg, they need to throw the bad egg out before it gets salmonella.

This town should be renamed Salmonella.

“So your option is to finish this week and then report to summer school the following week.”

What about my plans to vacation in Maui?
I want to protest, but really, how and why?

This is beyond a conspiracy.

This is like the rest of everything that’s happened here.

“Poe didn’t deserve to get expelled,” I tell the principal.

“We’re not talking about her today.”

“I am.”

The principal steadies herself in her chair like a pencil sharpening its tip.

“It does not surprise me in the least that the two of you are friends.”

“She doesn’t use drugs.”

“With more of that attitude, I can make your stay at this school extremely unpleasant.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s been wonderful so far.”

She looks at me.

I suddenly feel like I’m waking up and filling in.

And once again, it’s anger and rage inside of me.

She can see the look on my face.

I’m staring right
at her.

She doesn’t frighten me. No way. Not around here, not when there are a hundred other things to frighten me.

“You will need to fill these out for summer school. Part of that will involve detention.”

“Awesome.”

“Chris.”

“Yes?”

“You’re heading down the wrong path.”

“And what path
is that?”

“You still have one more year here,” she says.

“Do I? Do you really know that?”

“Chris.”

“I might not be here tomorrow. You might not be either. You never know, do you?”

I stand up and grab the papers from her and walk out.

I’m wide awake now.

Wide awake and feeling just absolutely awesome that I get to see this hellhole for the summer.

104. The Two Ladies

Kelsey and I have an intense, moving conversation in art class.

“Hey,” I say.

Hey in this case means
Look, I’m really exhausted since this guy I’ve been trusting turned out to be a liar and knocked me unconscious and ended up burning down this inn I work at
along with
Oh, and yeah, I just learned I’m failing half my classes and need to take summer school.

“Hi,” Kelsey says back.

Hi in this case might mean
I had a really great dance with you the other night and have been thinking about it ever since and really hope that maybe we can have that dance again.

I’m not saying this because I feel really good about myself. But I see it in Kelsey’s eyes and in everything about her. I saw it on her face the other night.

The same way she saw it on my face.

That’s the gist of our conversation. Deep, insightful.

At the end of the class, she continues our conversation.

“See you later,” she says.

Which means
Why didn’t you bother to ask me anything at all about the rest of my night or my weekend and why don’t you bother talking or walking out with me because I’d really enjoy that but oh well that’s your loss.

“Yeah, see ya,” I say.

Which means just that.

I’ll see her again, sometime.

If I see Poe, a very big if since I have no idea what happened when I went by her house yesterday, it will end up going very differently from the limited interaction I had with Kelsey.

I take the bus home and then ride my bike out of town, heading to see Poe.

When I get to her house, I honestly expect it to be empty.

But as I put my bike on the driveway and start to walk to the door, Poe opens it and rushes toward me. She hugs me for a long time. Not saying anything, just hugging me. Then she tells me to come on inside before someone sees us.

I need to tell her about what happened, but I also need to know what happened to her.

“Who is this?”

The man speaking must be her father. I offer my hand and am about to say my name when Poe interrupts me.

“This is Steve. From school. A friend.”

The guy doesn’t shake my hand. He just looks at me with suspicious eyes, as if I did something or am about to do something.

Look, baldie, I’m not the problem here.

“He should leave before your mother gets back,” Poe’s father says to her as if I’m not even in the room.

“Fine.”

She leads me to the family room, where we sit on the couch.

“I saw her. Pictures of her.”

I shake my head, not understanding what she’s talking about.

“Jocelyn.”

“Pictures of Jocelyn?”

She shakes her head and begins to cry.

“Poe, what?”

“Somebody came here and threatened me.”

“Who? How?”

So for the next ten minutes or ten hours, I can’t really tell, through tears and gasps of air and confused dialogue, Poe tells me what happened. She says certain things in barely a whisper, not wanting her father to hear.

Someone sneaked into her house Sunday after lunch while her parents were gone. They came up to her room and opened the door and forced her to look at pictures of Jocelyn. Pictures of Jocelyn after she died.

I ask who and what they wanted and why, but Poe just ignores my comments and continues her story.

Whoever came to her house was wearing a Halloween mask, but she could tell it was a man. Probably a young guy. He showed her the pictures and then said that’s what happens to girls who hang around with guys like me.

“They said my name?” I ask.

It was a warning. Whoever came in wanted her to stop everything and anything to do with me. As if they were watching. As if they knew what we were doing.

“Did you tell—”

“I told my parents someone came in and threatened me. I told them everything except the part about you.”

“Poe—”

“Shhh. He doesn’t know. Mom is gone to Walgreens to get some meds the doctor prescribed for my nerves. I think she’s going to take half the pills herself.”

I no longer want to tell Poe what happened.

I can’t.

“The guy said one thing before he left, Chris. One thing that—I didn’t tell the police. But you need to know.”

“What?”

“He said that this is what happens to those who get close to you. It happened to Jocelyn. It happened to the lady at the inn you worked at. It’ll happen to me.”

“Iris?”

The word explodes like a firecracker, leaving a burning scent in the air.

“Then he told me that we’re all going to die. We can be afraid, or we can embrace our last breath. Something like that.”

I don’t say anything.

“Chris?”

I know exactly who sent this guy to threaten her. It’s as if he’s begging to be found out. As if there’s no mystery about who’s wearing the mask, who’s behind the dark curtain.

It’s like he’s wanting you to go to him.

“Chris, what is it?”

She knows. She can see it on my face.

I’ve made up my mind.

That’s exactly what I’m going to do.