The Gingerbread Boy (28 page)

“You’re the one who is sick,” said Daniel. “I don’t know what has happened to you in your life to make you this way, and it’s not my concern. I feel sorry for you.”

A stark look of revelation crossed her face, and the mask of security was gone. All too soon, though, a look of smug assurance seeped back into her eyes. “One day you’ll realize how right I am, and I only hope that it’s before it’s too late to save your career. What a waste that would be.” She looked at the house. “She’s in there, isn’t she? I can sense her hate. It scares me.”

“
You
scare me, Beth,” Daniel said. “Please quit stalking me.”

Beth shrugged. “Stalking? Hardly! But if you feel that way, I won’t upset you any further. I’ll go. I’ll leave you with one thought though…” Pausing for dramatic effect, Beth took a deep breath, and, with tears in her eyes, hugged Daniel around the neck. “I’ll
always
be there for you to run to. Always.”

With that, Beth broke away, turned, and strutted toward her car, leaving Daniel standing limply in the driveway.

Then she started her car, backed out, and was gone.

Catherine held her hands against her mouth as though trying to keep her heart from leaping out.
Beth had just hugged Daniel!
She saw Daniel turn, and she readied herself to race back into the house to feign sleep, but he merely walked off behind the house to sit alone below the hill once more.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Hearing the front door click shut, Joanne glanced up from her homework. “So when is the big trial?” she asked before getting a good look at Catherine’s expression.

“Cath, what’s wrong, what happened at the hearing?” she cried, watching her best friend grope her way across the living room into the kitchen.

Catherine could not answer. Joanne stopped at the kitchen doorway, watching in shock as her best friend groped her way into the bathroom. A few moments later garbled sounds of vomiting filled the room. Joanne hurried across the kitchen and into the bathroom to find Catherine on her knees over the toilet bowl, her head on her arms.

Finally Catherine mustered enough strength to turn red-rimmed eyes toward her friend. “There won’t be a trial,” she said in a broken voice. “Beth changed her story at the hearing. She said that she let Calvin in the house, that all he wanted to do was talk to me. She said that I went crazy and locked him in the basement, and she was so scared of
me
that she hid under the bed. She also claimed I only took the phone outside and called the police to cover for myself. You should have heard her, she made it sound like I was the nut, Joanne.” Catherine tried to smile, but all that came out was a helpless grimace. “That’s not all, they have things on record about me… lies… lies that… that…” Suddenly Catherine pressed her face back into her arms as a loud choking rocked through her body. Joanne dove to comfort her friend, holding her in her arms and stroking her hair. It was several minutes before Catherine was able to pull herself together enough to speak once more.

“Somehow, records show that I have a record of stalking people, especially Cave Pig,” she sobbed, leaning against the bathtub. “It made it seem like anything I’ve ever said was nonsense. I’ve got no credibility at all. The judge threw the case out of court. Cave Pig is free.”

Joanne rose to her feet. “How can they do that? That man is dangerous!”

“I don’t know how he did it, but records show I have a history of trying to frame him for things like stalking and assault. I denied it all, but no one believed me. It was a nightmare, Joanne! I still can’t believe what happened.”

“Beth’s responsible for this,” Joanne seethed, walking in frustrated circles, “She knows the right people, has enough money and power to falsify records. All she needed was help from Cave Pig for times and dates. I can’t believe what monsters they are!”

Catherine gazed up at her from a tear-streaked face. Her hair hung in ropes before her eyes. “I don’t know how to fight this! If Daniel finds out about this, he could drop me like a hot potato, Joanne. I don’t think I could handle that, I know I couldn’t handle that. And Beth
will
tell him. I think she’s been filling him with lies to back this up for weeks.”

Joanne closed her eyes. “This can’t happen, she whispered. “You’ve already been through so much. We can’t let it happen.” All at once Joanne’s eyes popped open, and a determined look crossed over her face. “Get up, Cath. Now. Wash your face, brush your hair, and pull yourself together.”

“Why?” Catherine blubbered.

“Because
you
are going to explain all his to Daniel before Beth tries to. Now hurry!”

****

Daniel slowly picked his way down the incline toward the fallen tree; his and Catherine’s tree, he now liked to think of it. He stared at the sky as he neared the tree’s labyrinth of exposed roots, a peaceful, bright blue sky, a few clouds dabbed overhead, mirrored in the river waters below. So quiet and serene. A good place to meditate, to pray, to clear his mind. He crouched near the roots, and put his face in his hand, gathering his strength, courage and balance for a potentially dangerous walk out onto the trunk. There, and there alone, he could truly examine his choices. Mull over his future. A potentially quite short future. Fear drizzled down his spine and seemed to settle in his legs, leaving them weakened. But the weakness was far from merely fear; he knew that well, only too well. A tiny gasp emitted from his lungs. His eyes began to sting, and it felt hard to breathe as he readied himself to pull to his feet to venture out onto the trunk.

Only his legs would not move. Grimacing, Daniel rubbed them, willing them to move. Eventually, as usual, enough strength manifested to lift himself enough to clutch onto a knobby section of the tree’s roots for balance. But as he gazed out over the trunk, it suddenly seemed extraordinarily long. Miles long instead of feet long, stretching limitless to the other side of the river that had nearly taken his life. Could he —
should
he try and hobble his way out onto it? Even if he crawled, would it be safe enough? The water below was calm, no longer deep and rampaging, yet still icy cold. His heart thudded in his chest. He’d so wanted to sit out there! Stretch out over the bark and lean into the branches where he and Catherine had shared their first true kiss not so long ago. He’d held off kissing her for so long — he’d wanted to make sure of how he felt for her. Make sure she was truly the “one.” And she was. He hadn’t had to know her for years to realize it. It’d become as crystal clear as the atmosphere that magical day.

“Oh Lord, what do I do,” he mumbled, closing his eyes, lowering his chin to his chest. “What would be best for Catherine in the long run?”

And then, slowly, a splash of color in the corner of Daniel’s eye caught his attention. He turned to see a small outcropping of flowers with long yellow petals growing within the weeds and brush. He stared hard at the flowers, his mind churning. Finally, he stretched out his arm to pick one. Before he knew it, he found himself lying on his back in the grass, twirling the flower in circles above his face, gazing at the glowing petals spiraling against the azure sky. At last, he reached clumsily to pluck one off.

“I should tell her,” he whispered, letting the detached petal flutter down onto his chest. Catherine had every right to know just how sick he was, every right to know that there was not going to be a future together for them.

Every right!

He stared at the gap the missing petal had created, tightened his grip on the flower’s stem, and then pulled off another petal. “I shouldn’t tell her.” Again, he let the petal flutter downward, onto his chest. Telling Catherine what he was up against could put her in turmoil. Hadn’t she said she wished she’d never known Hazel, and that it seemed easier to hate someone than to love a person and then lose them? Wouldn’t it be easier for her, in the long run, to just hate him and be able to go on with her life and her career? Her grades hadn’t been near as good as they could have been had she not spent time with him. She’d never said that out loud, but he knew it to be true. He’d heard Catherine and Joanne mutter about their workloads. And veterinary medicine was a grueling career course. She needed to do well. She had to excel. And Daniel’s mother felt Catherine deserved the choice to stay with him or to leave as the toughest days of his life approached, career challenges or not, but Daniel seriously wondered if telling her would actually take
away
that choice. A good person would feel guilt for
not
staying, no matter what their own best interests were.

Daniel knew he should be praying, and hard, knew it, yet a rambling, one-sided conversation with God never left his mind these days, it seemed. But he continued a numbed process with the flower in mechanical motion until there were only a few stringy petals left, and he knew what he had to do before plucking the rest. Finally he stared at the last petal in his fingers, then let it, and the tattered remains of the flower drop in a forlorn pile on his chest.

****

When Daniel pulled into his driveway he was surprised to see Catherine’s car parked near the garage, even more surprised to find Catherine sitting on the hood. Her eyes were haunted-looking as he shut off the ignition and hurried toward her. He knew Calvin’s hearing had been today, and had respected Catherine’s request for him not to come. She hadn’t expected much to happen.

Maybe something
had
happened.

He slowed as he neared her, stunned by the expression on her face.

“What happened?” He asked.

Catherine tried to smile, but her mouth twisted into a frown. Daniel picked up her hands in his, alarmed at how tiny and damp they felt in his own.

They threw the case out of court,” Catherine finally said. “Cave Pig is a free man.”

“What?” Daniel tightened his grip on her hands, waiting for more.

Again, Catherine tried to smile. “The judge believes that I was trying to frame Calvin into a kidnapping charge. Beth backed up Calvin’s story. She and Calvin made it sound like I was some kind of man-hating psycho.”

“And the judge believed it?”

Catherine’s lips trembled. “Somehow affidavits appeared of me trying to frame him for things in the past. But it’s all made up.” She stared at him with pleading eyes. “I’m not like that, Daniel. It’s all lies. Lies bought with her money.”

“Catherine,” Daniel whispered, folding her in his arms, “I believe you. I know you’re no liar.”

She burst into tears and buried her face in his hair. Daniel grimaced, fighting his own tears, wondering how on earth he could ever manage to pull off what he’d shortly have to do.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Joey watched as Burr-Head swatted the microphone and knocked it to the floor. Burr-Head’s eyes were flashing. “We’ve had enough sound checks, Daniel! We sound fine. Why are you beating us up like this? Lighten up!”

Daniel gazed solemnly at him as the other band members moved in behind Burr-Head in a symbolic backing of his grievance. Daniel reached down to pick up the microphone and righted it, running his hand across the smooth metal in an almost erotic caress. He said nothing, only turned to walk back toward the studio’s control board where Joey stood.

“We’re over-practicing,” Joey said. “Burr-Head is right. We’ll burn out if we keep going like this. We all need a break.”

Daniel sighed and looked down at the floor. At last he looked up. His expression was chilling. “The gig with Lift is
this
Saturday,” he said, his voice husky. “Not
next
Saturday, not two Saturdays from now. This Saturday. We’ve got to get it
right
. We’ve got to get it perfect. They’ve opened up the soccer field because of who we are.”

Joey took a step toward Daniel. He wiped his hand across his forehead, clearing a sheen of sweat. “We’re all tired. We’re grouchy. We need rest. It’s the only way we will do well Saturday.”

Daniel shook his head. “We need work. We sound rough. It’s up to Lift whether or not we tour with them. We can’t take chances. This may be the biggest break we’ll ever get.” He spun around, raised his arms in frustration. “We can’t blow it, guys!”

Burr-Head moved forward. There was menace on his normally tranquil face. “No, Daniel. Y
ou
are the one who sounds rough.
You’re
the one who sounds shaky.
We
sound fine. You are the one screwing up. Your voice slurs. You can barely hang onto the microphone. You look like you haven’t slept in days, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve spent the last few weeks sucking out of a bottle.”

Daniel’s mouth tightened, and suddenly he raised a fist. Startled, Burr-Head backed, but only slightly. His eyes darkened and he also raised a fist.

Joey pulled Daniel back. “Mowgli! Snap out of it!”

Daniel wrenched out of Joey’s grasp and turned to face him. “I can’t believe this! Everyone is turning against me. Even
you,
Joey.”

With that, he staggered out of the room.

The next moment a pair of drumsticks sailed through the air to land near Joey’s feet. A guitar scuttled across the carpet, and three angry musicians stomped out of the back door.

Joey lowered his face into his hands, his eyes stinging. “Daniel, Daniel,” he murmured to himself, fighting tears, “I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know what to do.”

****

Joanne stretched her legs across the footstool in Daniel’s living room. “It’s awful quiet out in the studio now, she mused. “I wonder what happened after the hollering?”

Catherine tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and flipped through another page of the college newspaper. She glanced up at Joanne from her cross-legged position on the floor. “They’re probably arguing over lyrics. They tend to argue over that the most.”

“No,” Joanne disagreed. “Something weirder is going on. I can feel it. It’s like sitting on the beach in the dark and sensing a tidal wave bearing down on you.”