The Dream Where the Losers Go (17 page)

Leaning forward, Jigger turned off the radio, then pulled Skey back in against himself. “You’re not gonna tell on us, are you, baby?” he whispered. “You’re my baby doll, aren’t you, Skey? You just wanna be loved by me, I know you do, baby. Just wait ’til after school, ’til I dump these Dragons and we can be alone.”

Jigger’s arms wrapped tighter, his voice a heavy weight in her ear. She had to find the boy, the boy was the only one who understood. A flicker of intense light pulsed across the top of Skey’s brain. She moved into it, the tunnel of light opened around her, and she was in.

H
E WAS DIRECTLY
in front of her, muttering the usual string
of swear words. Not wanting to startle him, she waited. Everything here was already so full of fear.

“Do you remember me?” she finally asked.

Immediately the swearing broke off. “Who are you?” asked the boy.

“I’m the girl from the tunnel,” she said.

“What tunnel?” said the boy.

“The tunnel of dark where we usually meet,” she said. “This is a different tunnel. You came here once before, to save me. You touched my hand.”

“Huh?” demanded the boy.

His voice was slightly different—lower—but it was him. Had he somehow forgotten the tunnel of dark? Maybe the beating had damaged his brain so he couldn’t remember.

“I don’t know how I fucking got here, or who the hell you are,” said the boy. “It’s too bright to see anything in here. I remember guys from my school dragging me somewhere. I think they were going to beat me up. Then it got dark, and then I was here. The light’s everywhere, and it’s making a high-pitched sound. It’s driving me nuts.”

She leaned forward, her breath tight. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Elwin,” said the boy. “Most people call me Lick.”

She almost lost it then, the white whine sharpening to a drill in her head.

“Who are you?” asked Lick.

“Names are secrets,” she whispered.

“Thanks a lot,” he said.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” she said. “I’ve just got to figure out how. D’you remember who those guys were?”

“Yeah,” he said softly.

“D’you remember why they beat you up?” she asked.

There was a pause, and then Lick said, “Yeah, I remember.”

She did lose it then. Without warning, the tunnel of light slipped out of her grasp, and she opened her eyes to find Jigger’s hands cupping her face, his blue eyes staring into hers.

“What’s the matter with you today?” he asked, giving her head a small shake. “You’re some kind of zombie.”

Skey blinked.
Jigger
, she thought frantically. She was with Jigger now. And when she was with Jigger, it was important to keep him happy, so he wouldn’t suspect the other places she went to in order to do her true living, that slow steady groping toward some kind of truth.

“Jig,” she whispered, pulling him in and kissing him softly, as softly as love could be imagined. “Jig, I love you, make me love you, make me yours, you know I want to be yours the whole night through.”

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

W
HEN
S
KEY TOLD
Ms. Fleck that her part of Group D’s data was stored on Lick’s mother’s laptop, the teacher agreed to delay their presentation for a week. She then sent the class to the library to work on their assignment. Grabbing a thick important book, Skey ditched the rest of the group and headed to a back corner, where she sat down and placed the open book on her lap. Then she curved her hand over the rock in her pocket and whispered, “How do I bring Lick back to the dark tunnel?”

But the rock didn’t seem interested in giving straight answers. Instead, a sharp crinkle of electricity shot across the top of her brain, and she was surrounded by the tunnel of light.

“Lick?” she said.

“That you again?” he asked. He sounded exhausted.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m trying to think of a way to get you back to the other tunnel.”

“What are these tunnels?” he demanded querulously. “Some kind of experiment by the city’s engineering department?”

“Try some kind of experiment with the human mind,” she said.

“You mean we’re inside our heads?” asked Lick.

“Something like that,” she said. “We thought our way here.”

“So whoever you are,” said Lick, “you’re as crazy as me.”

“Almost,” she said. “I hate this tunnel. It’s like frying your brain circuitry.”

“Tell me about it,” he muttered.

“There’s another tunnel,” she said. “A dark one. Let’s try thinking our way there.”

Reaching into her pocket, she took out the rock and held it out in front of herself, moving it back and forth until she felt it bump into something.

“That you?” she asked.

“Maybe,” he said.

“Okay,” she said. Touch this rock. I’ve got hold of it too. I think it can help us get there.”

“Get where?” he muttered, but she felt his fingers graze against hers, then pull back to his side of the rock.

“Good,” she said. “Now, just listen.” Taking a deep breath, she began. “Think of the dark,” she said slowly, “where no one can see you. No one can see what you look like, how you hold yourself, the way you think on your face. Think of the dark, where you see with your feelings and your fingertips, where your mind slows down so it belongs to you, and you can leave the pain behind. Think of the dark, where you can’t see what happened to you, and so you can forget it. And when you have to go back to your regular life, you won’t remember what they did to you, you can still be friends, you don’t have to think about it at all. Think of the dark...”

It was happening, she realized, glancing around herself. The light was dimming, the air growing quieter.

“...where there are no expectations,” she continued. “No one knows you, you can be alone, just a bit of life like a worm crawling along the ground, feeling your way along. There aren’t even names; you are no one. The darkness is the place to be nothing, where nothing has ever happened to you and nothing ever will.”

The last hint of light disappeared, leaving them standing in the dark tunnel, the air about them cool and damp, empty of vicious vibes. Leaning against the wall, Skey felt a trickle of water run down her back. She took deep shuddering breaths, breathing the dark, listening to Lick breathe himself quiet beside her. Gently she pulled the rock out of his fingers and pocketed it.

“This is better,” he said. “Is it another one of those mind experiments?”

“Like a dream,” she said. “It’s like we met in the same dream.”

“I could think of better dreams to meet in,” muttered Lick.

“I like this dream,” she said.

“This is the place you come to forget,” said Lick.

An odd fear blew through her. “No,” she said quickly. “No, I don’t.”

“That’s what you said while you were bringing us here,” said Lick. “It’s the place to forget.”

“No,” she said again, cutting him off quickly. “I haven’t forgotten anything.
You
forgot something, and I found you here.”

“I’ve never been here before,” said Lick, his voice stunned.

“Yes, you were,” she said, “but you wouldn’t tell me your
name. You couldn’t remember anything then—your family, or your school, or even the city you lived in.”

Lick hesitated, then spoke very carefully, as if she had completely lost it. “If I was here before,” he said, “why can’t I remember it?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “You told me you came here in a dream, and then you forgot where you came from. That’s how I’m different from you—I remember the other side of my life, where my body lives.”

“Where your
body
lives?” demanded Lick.

“This is a mind place,” she said. “A place our minds live.”

“Weird,” muttered Lick. “I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else. My name is Lick. And I remember everything.
Everything.
Believe me, there’s stuff I’d rather forget.”

In the darkness she stood silently, caught within the jagged edges of her heart. All she wanted was for things to fit together smoothly. “I don’t understand,” she said slowly. “All I know is the boy in the tunnel is you.”

“Well, you’re right about one thing,” said Lick. “I don’t want to go back.”

“We’ll be friends here,” she said with a quick happiness. “You’ll never get hungry or thirsty. You’ll never need to sleep. I’ll tell you about the carvings, and we’ll feel our way along the tunnels just like before.”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Lick said emphatically. “I’ve never been here before.”

For the first time in his presence, she felt alone. “All right,” she said slowly.

“And one more thing,” he added. “Don’t touch me. It’s bad enough when you can see the buggers who want to clap
your shoulder and shake your hand, but in the dark, I’d freak. I don’t know what I’d do to you.”

Warmth came back to her. “I don’t like it either,” she said. “I won’t touch you ever.”

“Promise?” he asked.

“Promise,” she said happily.

T
HEY WERE LYING
in the backseat, wrapped in a blanket, the radio crooning as they curved together. “Y’see, Skey, y’see what we’re like?” whispered Jigger. “It’s so good between us. I swear it’s never been like this with anyone else.”

It was true. Even with everything that had happened, he had touched her today, and she had opened for him, the wonder flowing between them the way it always did. It made her sick. She hated touching, the way it betrayed her, made her feel such love.

“I know what we need, baby,” said Jigger. “I know how to keep us together. What the Dragons did to that loser, I did it to keep us together. We gotta stick together. Dragons love their own kind, Skey. They love forever.”

“You didn’t have to put him in the hospital,” she muttered.

“I told you to stay away from him but you didn’t,” Jigger said gently. “I had to put some sense into your pretty little head. You don’t think right sometimes, you know you don’t.”

“I didn’t want to fuck him,” said Skey. “What’s the big deal with talking to him?”

“Something wasn’t right, I could feel it. But now it is.” Softly Jigger kissed her. “You got that key yet?”

“No, but I know how to get it.” Skey didn’t want to argue, just get back to her room, the tunnel and Lick. “Why d’you want to come in at night anyway?”

“No questions, baby,” said Jigger, sitting up. “It’s your way of proving loyalty to the Dragons. Especially after what you’ve done.” He started fishing around for his clothes.

Fear sang in Skey’s mouth. “You want to hurt a girl, don’t you?” she said. Wrapping the blanket tightly around herself, she stared at him. Jigger paused, then pulled his shirt over his head.

“We won’t hurt you,” he said.

“Someone else?” she whispered. “That’s why you want to come in? You want to get a strange girl and hurt her?”

“Nah, Skey,” said Jigger. “Why would we want to do that?” Leaning down, he kissed her. “Just Night Games,” he soothed. “The usual. Hey, it’s four fifteen. Time to get dressed.”

Night Games. Dragons hunting
.
What do they talk about when I’m not around?
thought Skey, staring at him. How had the gang changed since last May? Something was different. She could feel it in their silences, the ways they laughed, as if they had a joke that didn’t include her, a joke she wouldn’t want to know about. The Dragons hunted differently now, flew farther, clawed deeper.

Eyes narrowed, Skey stared as Jigger pulled on his jeans, kept staring as he turned and stared back at her, his face suddenly unreal, a stranger’s face. Someone she had never seen. Who was this guy? Who was he, really?

“Get up!” he yelled, and she scrambled to put on her clothes, then tucked herself obediently under his arm. Playing with her hair, he steered the car into traffic, and she opened her mouth, soft-lipped, for his kiss.

“You let me handle all the big bad stuff,” he said, “and we’ll be fine.”

“I love you, Jig,” she replied. For the first time, she said it with fear. “I’ll love you forever,” she whispered.

Three blocks from the lockup, he let her out, pulled a U-turn and drove off. As Skey began walking, a car that had been behind them pulled alongside, and the front passenger door opened. Terry leaned across the seat toward her.

“Want a ride?” she called.

Blanking her face, Skey got in. It was warmer in this car, the radio talking politics, ways to improve the world. Ahead of them, the black iron gate loomed.

“Friend of yours?” asked Terry.

Skey gave up the game with relief. “Boyfriend,” she admitted. “We’ve been going out for almost a year. You can call my mother. She’ll tell you he’s a very nice boy.”

“And what do you think?” asked Terry quietly.

“He’s my boyfriend,” shrugged Skey. “I’m biased.”

“So that’s why you never need bus tickets?” said Terry.

“I use them,” said Skey.

“Skey, you never even asked for them yesterday or today,” said Terry.

Skey flushed. “I always get back by four thirty,” she said, turning to look out her window. “Just ask my mother. He’s a very nice boy.”

A
S
S
KEY WALKED
into the unit, a door slammed, then opened again, and she saw Ann come halfway out of her room. Body rigid, Ann stood staring at the unit. Both wrists were bandaged, she had obviously been scratching again. Standing beside the office, Skey hesitated, then started toward her own room. Immediately Ann’s dark eyes fixed on her, and with a flash of guilt, Skey remembered how she had punched their shared wall last night.

Without a word, Ann backed into her room and slammed her door again. Quickly, Terry walked across the
unit, knocked on her door and unlocked it. Voices poured through the open doorway, Ann yelling, Terry talking her down. Ann was going on about something stupid; everyone knew it wasn’t what was really bothering her, but she kept yelling and Terry kept soothing. Eventually staff would calm Ann down, and the unit would get on with the usual.

Several feet from the office, Skey stood motionless. In the moment Ann’s eyes had fixed on her, she had felt something pass from the other girl to herself, something cold and clammy, beyond words. Going into her room, she closed the door and sat on the bed, listening to the ebb and flow of voices on the other side of the wall. Slowly but surely, Ann was sinking into the calm of Terry’s voice.