The Other Side of Dark (12 page)

“I remember. You lived down the street from Jan.”

“Still do,” he says.

“But you’re a lot older. I mean, this party—you’re not—”

He laughs again at my embarrassment. “You’re trying to ask why I’m at the party since I’m older than everyone here? Look around. Not everyone. Some of the people who were in high school with me are here too.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Tony and I are good friends,” Jarrod adds. “You might say I’m a fixture at most of his parties.”

Tony calls out, “Who changed the radio station? All we’re getting is commercials.” He heads toward the built-in equipment across the room. Jarrod follows him.

A freckle-faced girl edges toward me. “What was it like being out of your head all that time? I mean, did you dream or what?” She looks as spacey as her question.

“No more questions,” Jeff says. He murmurs to me, “Let’s get you away from the inquisition,” and leads me toward a small library. “You need a chance to sit down and relax.”

I look around the room. “I like this.”

“So do I, and we’re lucky. No one else has discovered it yet, so we get a chance to talk.”

I sit on the wide sofa that’s in front of a wall of bookshelves, and he sits next to me, twisting so that he faces me. I get the peculiar feeling that he’s trying to memorize my face.

“Your friends are glad to see you again,” he says.

“Are they? I feel like something on exhibit.”

“No. It’s not like that. Your story is new and different, and they’re excited about it.”

“But I don’t want to be different. I want to go back to school and just be me.”

“It will all settle down soon. You’ll probably get more questions, but just hang on.” He smiles.

“I ought to go home. I feel like I used to when I was a little kid looking on at my big sister’s party. I don’t belong here.”

“It’s hard to grow up all of a sudden.”

“How do you know that?”

“I can put myself in your shoes. I can imagine.”

“Nobody else has tried to do that,” I tell him.

“Maybe they just haven’t told you.”

I shrug. “I don’t think so. You’re—you’re different.” I’m furious at myself as I feel my cheeks becoming hot and red. “I’m sorry. I mean—Darn! I sound like a kid. I say all the wrong things.”

He laughs as he stands and holds out his hands to me. “You’ll learn in a hurry. Come on. Let’s get back to the party.”

I’m reluctant to join the others. Jeff pulls me to my feet, but I hesitate. Maybe I’m trying to stall. I find myself saying, “I know most of the people in there, but I don’t know you. Tell me about yourself.”

“There isn’t much to tell.”

“When did you move to Houston?”

“Around a year ago.”

“Where did you live before that?”

“Michigan. Come on, I’m hungry. Aren’t you? Somebody said there was going to be pizza.”

“Did I know you before, Jeff?”

“I thought you didn’t like a lot of questions.”

“It’s just that I get the feeling that we’ve met somewhere.”

“Where could we have met, Stacy?”

“I don’t know.”

He heads for the den, pulling me with him. “Maybe I’m just the man of your dreams. Let’s check on that pizza.”

But as we reach the crowd in the den Jeff and I are
separated, and I see him near the kitchen, talking to B.J.

Jarrod pulls me off to one side and pushes a Styrofoam cup at me. “You’ve got to be thirsty by this time. Here’s something to drink.”

I can smell it. Making a face, I hand it back to him. “No way. That’s got liquor in it.”

He leans close to murmur in my left ear. It tickles. “Come on, Stacy. You’re not a kid anymore. This will help you loosen up. You want to have some fun, don’t you?”

“Forget it.”

“Okay. One soft drink coming up.” He squirms a pathway into the kitchen and is soon back with another Styrofoam cup. “Lemon-lime okay?”

Carefully, suspiciously, I smell it, then take a sip. It’s all right. “Thanks,” I tell him.

I start to move toward the kitchen, but Jarrod says, “The pizzas aren’t ready yet. Talk to me.” He takes my arm and leads me to a small garden room with floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the backyard and patio with a lighted pool. At the far end of the room a couple has snuggled together in a wicker swing. He’s nuzzling her neck. I turn my back on them quickly, blushing again.

Jarrod grins at me. “You really are a Sleeping Beauty, aren’t you?”

“Don’t call me that!” Angry at him and at myself, I take a long swallow of the soft drink.

“Okay,” he says. “You’re a beauty anyway.” He puts an arm around my shoulders. I stiffen.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I answer. I’m very much aware of his arm and of the warmth of his hand that is kneading my shoulder. What am I supposed to do? No guy has ever put an arm around me.

“I wonder where Jeff is.”

I didn’t mean to say it aloud. Jarrod tilts his head to look into my eyes. “You didn’t come with Jeff,” he says.

“No. I just wondered. I—”

He moves a little closer, and his breath blows warm against my right ear. “It’s a pretty night. Want to go outside for a little while?”

The swing creaks, and the girl on the swing giggles. I’d like to get out of this room, so I quickly answer, “Okay. By the pool?” The underwater lights add a glow to the yard that is almost as bright as the lights in this room.

“Better yet,” Jarrod says. “Out in front. I’ve got a new car. I’d like to show it to you.”

“Well—”

“Don’t you want to see it?” He sounds hurt. “I’m real proud of it. Wire wheels and all sorts of gadgets—even a makeup mirror on the passenger side that lights up. You’ll like it. Come on, Stacy.” He puts on a little-boy grin. “If you knew me better, you’d know I always get my own way.”

I suppose if I had a new car, I’d want to show it off too. “Okay,” I say. “I’d really like to see your car.”

I look for a place to put down my cup, but Jarrod says, “Drink up first.”

I take another long swallow. “That’s enough.”

“Hey, I got that ’specially for you. Chugalug it.”

It’s a small cup, and there’s not much left. Obediently I take another drink, emptying the cup.

Jarrod takes it from me, grins, and puts it on a nearby table. Holding my hand, he leads me past the couple on the swing, who don’t seem to notice us. We go back through the den and the entry hall to the front door. No one seems to notice us. Jarrod quickly opens the door, and as soon as we step through he shuts it behind us.

The night air is still warm, and the light from a large, low-hung moon blurs the dark sky. The sharp, pungent fragrance of early ligustrum blooms is making me dizzy. I find that I have trouble focusing my eyes.

“I feel kind of funny,” I tell Jarrod. “I’d better sit down.” And I plop onto the top porch step. The bricks are rough and hard.

Jarrod sits next to me. “Get up, Stacy. It’s just a few more steps to the street.”

“I don’t know what’s the matter. I’m kind of dizzy. Maybe I’m coming down with a virus. I’d better find Jan.”

“Don’t bother Jan. You’ll be all right. Come on. I’ll help you walk.”

I try to stand up, but I can’t make it. “Let go, Jarrod.”

But he doesn’t. “Shhh,” he says. “Just relax. Just lean against me. Close your eyes, and some of the dizziness will go away.”

Maybe he’s right. I close my eyes and do feel a little better. As I relax, my head rests against the warm hollow of Jarrod’s neck. We sit there quietly for a few
minutes. Then he begins stroking my arm with the tips of his fingers, and my skin tingles.

“Feel a little better now?” he murmurs.

“I guess so. I don’t know what happened to me.”

“You just had a little too much to drink. I didn’t know it would hit you this hard, but it won’t hurt you.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t have anything to drink.” It’s hard to think. It’s hard to figure out what he means.

“Just a little vodka, Stacy. I knew you couldn’t taste the vodka.”

“Jarrod, you weren’t supposed to—” I say, but he interrupts.

“Let’s go to the car now,” he says.

“No. I think I should go home.”

His voice is smooth. “Okay, Stacy. I’ll drive you home.”

He helps me up. My legs wobble as though the bones weren’t connected while we make our way down the three or four brick steps.

As we reach the walkway Tony’s front door slams open. Someone leaps down the steps, grabs Jarrod by his collar, and flings him aside. I stagger backward onto the grass and see Jarrod jump up to the top porch step.

“Leave her alone!” Jeff yells.

I stare up at the porch and into Jarrod’s eyes.

The screen door bangs against the wall, and I can clearly see the guy who has run from our house. He’s scared. I can feel his fear as he stares back at me. His eyes are glittering with terror. They’re so light and pale
they’re almost yellow. I can see his face. He has a gun in his hand. He raises it and points it at me.

“Jarrod!” I scream. “It was you! You killed my mother!”

Yelling, screaming with rage, I stagger through a red haze toward Jarrod and directly into Jeff’s path as he leaps toward the porch. Jeff and I fall, legs and arms flailing wildly. Jarrod jumps over us and runs to a car that is parked on the drive, facing the street. Jeff stumbles to his feet and races after Jarrod. He slams against the trunk of the car as Jarrod takes off with a screech of tires.

People explode from the house, shouting questions, and I can’t stand it. I collapse on the grass, my hands over my head.

“What happened?”

“What’s the matter with Stacy?”

“Jarrod? Really? It was Jarrod? I can’t believe it!”

“Somebody ought to call the police!”

“Tell them—tell them Jarrod keeps a gun in his car.”

“How do you know that?”

“We were on a date. He opened the glove compartment, and I saw—oh, what difference does it make. Someone should tell the police. I don’t want anyone to get hurt!”

“Is Stacy all right?”

“Did Jarrod hurt her?”

“Why does Jarrod keep a gun in his car?”

“C’mon. A lot of people do. Tony does.”

“Hey, keep me out of this! Anyhow, that’s my dad’s gun.”

“Look, everybody, what should we do about Stacy?”

The questions become a roar, and the words don’t make sense. Where is Jeff? Where is Jan?

A hand firmly clasps mine and pulls me to a sitting position. “Open your eyes,” Jeff says. “Jan is getting you some coffee.”

Jan arrives with a mug of coffee and helps me drink it.

“I hate coffee,” I mumble into the cup.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jeff says. “It will help you wake up.”

I can open my eyes now. He’s watching me carefully.

“Okay, everybody,” Jeff says to the row of white faces with huge, lemurlike eyes. “You can go inside now. I’m going to take Stacy home.”

“I’ll go too,” Jan says.

“You don’t need to,” Jeff tells her. “She’ll be all right.”

“But what if Jarrod—”

“The last place he’ll come tonight is to Stacy’s house.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police?”

“It’s taken care of,” he tells them. He turns to me.
“Stacy, is there a particular detective you should talk to?”

“Yes. Detective Markowitz.”

“Let’s take you home. You can talk to him there. It will give you a chance to calm down.”

Jan gives me a questioning look, so I tell her, “I think Jeff is right.”

As I watch them leave I mumble to Jeff, “I didn’t know what Jarrod was going to do. He wanted me to see his new car.” I feel as though I have to explain. “I didn’t know about the vodka.”

“It’s okay, Stacy. You don’t have to tell me about it.”

“I’m glad you came when you did. Thanks.”

“Drink some more coffee.”

The coffee has cooled down a little, so I take a big drink. “You came right away.”

“I was looking for you. Feeling a little better?”

“Why were you looking for me?”

As I wait for his answer I sip at the coffee. I can think more clearly now, which is unfortunate because I’m getting more and more embarrassed. To make everything worse, I look up at Jeff and hiccup. His face twitches as he tries unsuccessfully to suppress a laugh.

“Home is a good place for you right now,” he says. He puts the empty coffee mug on the edge of Tony’s front porch. “Come with me, Stacy. My car is across the street.”

My legs are working now, but I hold his hand tightly while we walk to the car. In a few minutes, as we pull away from the curb, the nearby streetlight flashes
across his face, and again I get the strange feeling that I’ve met Jeff before.

“You’re different,” I tell him.

“You said that before.”

“I can’t explain it. It’s like you’re not exactly what you seem to be.”

He turns to look at me. “You’ll find out that many people aren’t exactly what they seem to be, Stacy.”

“What does that mean?”

“Questions, questions,” he says. There’s a long pause until he surprises me by asking, “How well did you know Jarrod Tucker?”

“I just saw him around the neighborhood. I knew who he was.”

“Did you see him with other people?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I didn’t pay any attention. Why?”

“Just asking,” he says, but for an instant he gives a strange smile.

“My turn.” I sit up straighter. “Do you know Jarrod Tucker?”

He turns and looks at me. “I’ve seen him around.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Sure I did. Pay attention.”

“How come you get to ask all the questions? When I ask you questions, you don’t answer or you change the subject.”

“Changing the subject right now is a good idea. What do you want to talk about? The party?”

“I don’t even want to think about the party.” A large hiccup shudders through me, and I clap my hands over my mouth.

The muscles at the corners of his mouth twitch again. He’s laughing at me! I open my mouth to tell him that he’s rude, but all that comes out is another hiccup. I feel so stupid that I hunch back against the seat and don’t try to talk. He doesn’t talk to me either. There’s such a muddle of feelings stirring inside me. I don’t understand them. I sneak a couple of glances at Jeff from the corners of my eyes. I like him. I like to be near him. But there is something about him I don’t understand. It’s like a secret he doesn’t want me to discover.