Shadow Man (2 page)

Roger and Stan were suiting up at the station. Stan's a new man, young and green, but Roger's been around. I trust him. I put on my gear and we took off.

As soon as we got past Widow's Peak we could see there was no need to hurry. A pickup truck was wrapped around a tree. One headlight was burning through the fog.

We walked toward the truck. The night was real quiet, except for the sound of the sea. Suddenly I got this sickening feeling. “Oh, Lord,” Roger said. “It's Gabe McCloud.”

He was dead. The steering wheel was stuck in his chest, but there wasn't a lot of blood.

“I guess he got where he was going,” Stan said. “Look at this.” The front of the pickup was full of empty beer cans and there were a bunch more in the bed. “Poor little dumb-ass. I've seen him around town. I hear his family's nothing but trouble.”

I said nothing. There was nothing to say. Roger said, “Where the hell is the ambulance?”

We've been having a problem with the ambulance lately. It won't start without some fooling around under the hood. Which is fun when you're supposed to be rushing someone to the county hospital. In Gabe's case, there was no rush.

I didn't want him to be dead. He's a good kid, nothing like his old man or his brothers. Why couldn't it have been Fran or one of them? I felt like I was going to throw up.

When the ambulance came, we got Gabe out of the truck. It was a mess; he was really stuck. The whole time, I tried not to think who it was, 'cause when I did, I felt like screaming. Gabe used to be such a happy kid. He could really cheer you up.

We rode back to town. Gabe went over to the mortuary. I arranged for his truck to be towed to the Chevron so I could clean it up before his mother saw it.

Then there was nothing to do but drive home. All these thoughts crowded into my mind. I kept picturing Gabe when he was little, bright as a dime; he was different from his brothers. The other two take after Franny, especially the middle one, Gerald. He's bad news.

They say Franny's changed since he stopped drinking. I don't know. He and I don't talk anymore. After that car deal, I wrote him off. Selling me a piece of junk like that.

I used to think Gabe would amount to something, if he lived long enough to straighten out. He did the damnedest, dumbest things, like quitting school this year. One semester to go and he drops out, as if he couldn't imagine graduating, as if he had to be a failure.

At least he wasn't mean. There's no excuse for meanness. Fran should rot in hell for the way he treated those boys. Beating them bloody, beating up their mother. We all knew it was going on. A couple of times people even called the county and reported it to one of those child abuse places. Nothing came of it. The county seat's too far away. They don't care what's going on in Willow Creek.

Things changed when the boys got big. Gerald fractured Franny's skull with a pool cue one time. David beat him up in a bar. But if an outsider attacked them, they'd stick together like molasses. People used to pray they'd move away. Except for Gabe. Everybody loved Gabe. He used to love to sing, even when he was a baby: He'd sing the little jingles he heard on TV.

Makes me sick to think about it. Makes my stomach hurt and my blood pound and my eyes ache from not crying. I'm lying in bed, Becky's head on my chest, her breath warm and even. She's sleeping. She was waiting up for me when I got home. When I told her what had happened she started crying.

“Was he wearing his seat belt?” she asked.

“No, he wasn't wearing his seat belt! Are you kidding? If he'd had one, he wouldn't have worn it. That's how stupid they all are!”

“I'm sorry, honey. I was just asking.” Becky's voice trembled. I felt ashamed. It wasn't her fault that Gabriel was dead.

I hugged her. “I didn't mean to yell,” I said. “I'm just tired. Let's go to bed.”

That was an hour ago. The curtains hold back the light. But I can't fall asleep; I'm too exhausted.

It's funny, a little while ago, for a second I thought I was holding Kay instead of Becky. Kay died of cancer when our boys were in tenth grade. Now they're grown up with families of their own, and Becky and I have two little boys.… Sometimes it's hard to keep things straight. Sometimes I feel like I fell asleep and when I woke up, my whole life had changed. Kay's gone, the twins are grown men, Becky's here, and I'm forty-eight—

Damn it, Gabe, you poor little baby. You never even knew what hit you.

4

Jennie Harding

Gabe's not here yet. He'll show up any second.

I can feel him with me. I can feel how much he loves me. He can't have gone out of this world.

The sun has warmed the rock I'm sitting on. The ocean spreads around me like a blue skirt, the color shifting in the light, reflecting sky. I'd never walked here before. It must've been ten miles. Good thing I wore my comfortable shoes.

Gabe always talks about hiding food on the beach; burying a treasure chest full of goodies so that when we get hungry, there it will be and we won't have to drive back to town. He hasn't gotten around to that yet, but the hole in my stomach isn't hunger, it's worry. If Gabe is really dead—

He's not, he's fine. God wouldn't let somebody like Gabriel die.

Oh, Gabe, I'd be so scared if I thought you'd left me.

The sun feels like gentle fingers on my face. The sea is calm. It's a perfect day for diving. Gabe will probably be here in his wet suit soon, hungry for abalone.

I get upset if he dives when the ocean is rough. He's not afraid of the water. But he knows you have to respect it. The ocean fills me with awe. Think of it, wrapped around the planet, touching everything, like God.

I've seen Gabe and his dog standing on the sea, on a rock that was almost gone; waves crashing over them, Jack barking, scared. He hates being out there, but he won't desert his master. Get out of there! I'm screaming. Gabe's smile is gleaming. He throws his head back to drain his can of beer. Then he jumps into the water—

He always makes it back to shore. By then I'm frantic, angry.

What's the matter with you? I yell at him. Do you want to get killed?

He grins.

It feels so odd to be here on a school day. Gabriel thinks I take school too seriously. It floors me when he says that school's not important. You've got to have a good education. Do you want to work in a mill all your life, I say, making coffins and losing your hearing?

What? Gabe shouts. You'll have to speak up!

He's too smart to play dumb. He's brilliant. And I'm not just saying that because I love him. Mrs. Sanders thinks so too, even though he's always had problems with school. She thinks he might have a learning disability; but Gabe's not interested in being tested. He says he's done all right so far.

His family is a big part of the problem. They think school is a waste of time. His mother didn't care when he dropped out. She didn't want him going away to college; she wanted him to stay in town. My parents are the opposite. Their biggest fear is that I'll marry Gabe and settle down here and get a job selling hot dogs at the drive-in.

We do want to marry, but we have big plans. Big plans! Gabe laughs when he hears me say that.

Judging by the sun, I'd guess it's almost nine. I've been out on the rock for about an hour. The first time Gabriel showed me this place, I was afraid to come out here. I'm not the world's best swimmer. He told me that it's perfectly safe, as long as you keep track of the time. When the tide is low we simply cross from shore, walking way out on glistening stone steps to a rock throne in the middle of our own secret cove, hidden from the top of the cliffs.

You have to get back to shore before the tide comes in and reclaims the throne where you've been sitting.

It won't be in for a few more hours. By then Gabe will have rescued me from this terrible dream I can't stop dreaming.

5

Carolyn Sanders

The news hit school like a bomb. Within seconds, kids were falling apart; boys with their fists in their pockets, scowling; girls clutching one another and sobbing.

For a while they were just milling around in the halls, asking one another, “Did you hear about Gabe?” then repeating the details like a litany.

Gabe was like a god to a lot of these kids. They thought he was indestructible.

I've finally corralled my kids in class. The intercom keeps crackling. The principal is expected to make an address. In the meantime, the kids talk among themselves. Girls' faces are puffy and red.

There's a political struggle in the front office. A group of the teachers want a school assembly, to acknowledge and discuss the accident. The anti-Gabe faction, led by Coach Troy Decker, wants to press ahead with business as usual. We don't want to make him a hero, the coach says.

As if we'll get a damn thing done today. A boy these kids loved has just been killed and I'm supposed to preach the importance of punctuation?

Gabe's brother Gerald was here a while ago, tearing the place apart, looking for James. He burst into my classroom, shouting: “Where the hell is he? He's dead meat!”

James happens to be absent today. With a terrible hangover, no doubt.

I said, “What do you want, Gerald?” I taught him, or attempted to, years ago. Once he actually threatened to hit me. He was suspended for three days.

“I'm looking for James! He killed my brother!”

“Your brother ran off the road,” I said, trying not to feel the words I was saying.

“James knows how drunk Gabe gets! He shouldn't have let him drive!” Gerald looked at me sideways, like a dog about to bite.

From the back of the room Ray Jackson spoke up. “James couldn't stop him. Nobody could. Nobody can make Gabe do anything.”

“You tell that little sucker he's dead. When I find him—”

“Get out of here, Gerald,” I said. “Get out before I call the police.”

He killed me with his eyes. Then he slammed out of the room. The kids were frozen at their desks.

“Don't worry,” Ray told me. “James can take care of himself.”

“Right,” I said. “Like Gabe took care of himself.” A wave of despair engulfed me. Gabriel is dead. I saw this coming in his eyes. I saw this coming and I couldn't stop it.

I've heard that Jennie is not in school. Nobody has seen her. At first I was afraid that she'd been in the truck with Gabe, but they said no, Gabe was alone. He was always alone, in the long run.

I wanted to talk to Jennie about Gabe. I wanted to warn her, but it was not my place. I should call her house and see how she's doing, but teacher has no answers today, no words that will take away her pain. Nothing I could say would explain what has happened. It was an accident. If something that deliberate can be called accidental. He threw his life away; batting aside every helping hand, thumbing his nose at every offer of assistance, as if he were entitled to unlimited chances—

Incredible. The kid's dead and I'm still mad at him. He was a splotch on my record, a reminder that I'd failed. The master teacher could not reach him. He shot through life like a falling star. Look, there goes Gabe! we said, dazzled by his brilliance. Then he burned out.

I've been sitting here, reading the pages he wrote for the weekly writing assignment in senior English. He hated that assignment. He didn't trust words. They'd been used to hurt him too many times.

Looking at what he wrote, at that brave, childish scrawl, I can see Gabe's face, I can almost hear him speaking.

6

Gabriel McCloud

Dear Mrs. Sanders,

I don't like this asinement. I don't think its fair. You say just write like your writing to a friend but if you don't I'll flunk you.

That's not to friendly.

I think it should be up to us if we do it or not. I am not the kind of person who likes to write. I don't read much. The stuff I like to read (comix) you would say doesn't count. But some of them are really good I like them a lot. There funny and they tell you stuff about life.

Like this one, this guy's name is
SHADOW MAN
. He has powers over the weather and the stars and he makes something happen just by thinking it. Mostly he does stuff for good but don't get him pissed off or its tornado time!

I like the way he looks his eyes are like stars I mean they flash. Did you know that when you see a star twinkle its not really happening now it happened a long time ago in the past. It took all that time to get to your eyes because its so far away. That's the kind of thing I learn from this comic and its true.

I don't know what I'm supposed to write. You say write 250 words but I can't its torcher. Anyway its not like people are going to read it just you and its not like I'm going to be a writer or something. We don't have to many books at our house exsept in my mother's room. You can't write at my house its to confusing but that's another story. Anyway my spelling is pretty bad.

282 words! Do I get extra credit?

SHADOW MAN

Gabriel
:

Who says you can't write? You're doing it
!

Don't worry about spelling and punctuation now. Just get those thoughts on paper
.

And no, you don't get extra credit for extra words. Nice try
,
though. Learning is its own reward. Right? Write
!

Keep up the good work
.

C.S
.

7

David McCloud

Man, this place is a madhouse. What a way to start the day. My brother's dead and my head is killing me. I wish I had some vodka.

The sun's too bright bouncing off the coffee table. We need more curtains. Ma should get some curtains. Jeez, do I feel lousy.

My little brother's dead. I can't believe it. I can't believe he's gone. The first thing I heard is my mother screaming. Five o'clock in the morning. The cops at the door. All the lights go on. I'm lying on the living room couch. Ma's reeling around the room with her hands on her mouth. Frank's pulling on his pants. He almost fell down.