run to the window every time a car drives up the street.
“It freaks me out when you do that,” Jill says.
“I just have to check. I need to be sure it’s not him.”
“Just be quiet about it, okay?”
_______
Friday, three days after the funeral, I finally find sleep.
I also find dreams.
Scenes from my past are warped: Mom and Gary are fighting in the next room and my door has become a wall, so I can’t run in to save her. Gary’s throwing knives at my mother again, but now she’s strapped to a magician’s spinning wheel of death. Gary pushes me down a waterslide, and I’ve forgotten how to swim. He looks like the deviant elves from A Christmas Story : “Ho. Ho. Ho.” And down I go.
The garage door’s groan jolts me awake.
My entire body is tense; every muscle flexed at once, with nowhere to go. Only dreams. I will never sleep again.
I creep close to Jill’s door as Dale climbs the stairs.
“Another miss,” he says to Janice. “Youngstown this time. Two sightings, reputable witnesses.”
Youngstown is seventeen miles away.
“Do you think it was really Gary?” Janice sounds tired.
“Sure sounds like it was him. I left Clyde on our front porch.”
“But you’re home. Don’t you think you’re enough?”
Dale’s pissed. “I don’t even want him to think of coming here. We’re keeping a cruiser or two at our house at all times. Someone will be posted at the door 24/7 until we catch him.”
“It’s been six days. I wonder what he’s doing in Youngstown?”
“Being stupid. We just have to wait for him to raise his rotten head.”
Janice is quiet for a while. “You don’t think he’d come after the rest of us, do you?”
Dale’s pause stretches out forever. “I don’t know what he’d do at this point.”
“Did we do the right thing bringing him here?”
“It’s the safest place for him, Jan.”
I press my ear to the door during the pregnant pause. There has to be more. I need to hear it.
Finally, she says, “But having him here makes it unsafe for the rest of us.”
Janice has a very good point.
T EN
Sunday afternoon, Jill has arranged a sort of date for Gretchen and me. It’s exactly two weeks after what was supposed to be our first date. Gretchen’s body and our mini-forest seem a world away and absolutely unappealing, but Jill begs me to host one night of normalcy.
Everyone makes a big deal about it. When the doorbell chimes, Janice hustles the little boys upstairs for a night of new video games and junk food.
Jill opens the door to a huge hug from Gretchen. My hands are firmly in my pockets, but I tilt my head a little. “Hey.”
We’re standing here—them trying desperately to make normal conversation and me staring at the walls—waiting for Tucker and Grant Blakely. We had anticipated a much bigger gathering, but no one else is coming. Some parents won’t let their kids anywhere near me.
To her credit, Jill screamed, “Screw your mother!” into her phone more than once while she was inviting people.
I’m being punished again. Wasn’t the murder enough? Hell, wasn’t my childhood enough? This is exactly why I never told anyone what was going on in my house. Well, the embarrassment, and the fact that I didn’t want people to be scared to hang out with me.
Tucker, who is closest to his normal self, shows up with Oreos and orange soda. “Glad to see you alive, buddy.”
I manage a half-smile.
Grant Blakely is close behind him with three giant pizza boxes.
In the kitchen, they all dig into the pies. Jill serves me a huge slice. “Here, Xander, you need to eat.”
I sit at the kitchen table, because everyone’s at the kitchen table, but I’m still full. Or not hungry.
Gretchen is watching me. She’s quieter than I’ve ever seen her. “I thought sausage and onion was your favorite?”
Is it? This party was a terrible idea. It’s too soon for all of this. It will always be too soon.
A year ago, I would have savored this moment. Hell,
“It freaks me out when you do that,” Jill says.
“I just have to check. I need to be sure it’s not him.”
“Just be quiet about it, okay?”
_______
Friday, three days after the funeral, I finally find sleep.
I also find dreams.
Scenes from my past are warped: Mom and Gary are fighting in the next room and my door has become a wall, so I can’t run in to save her. Gary’s throwing knives at my mother again, but now she’s strapped to a magician’s spinning wheel of death. Gary pushes me down a waterslide, and I’ve forgotten how to swim. He looks like the deviant elves from A Christmas Story : “Ho. Ho. Ho.” And down I go.
The garage door’s groan jolts me awake.
My entire body is tense; every muscle flexed at once, with nowhere to go. Only dreams. I will never sleep again.
I creep close to Jill’s door as Dale climbs the stairs.
“Another miss,” he says to Janice. “Youngstown this time. Two sightings, reputable witnesses.”
Youngstown is seventeen miles away.
“Do you think it was really Gary?” Janice sounds tired.
“Sure sounds like it was him. I left Clyde on our front porch.”
“But you’re home. Don’t you think you’re enough?”
Dale’s pissed. “I don’t even want him to think of coming here. We’re keeping a cruiser or two at our house at all times. Someone will be posted at the door 24/7 until we catch him.”
“It’s been six days. I wonder what he’s doing in Youngstown?”
“Being stupid. We just have to wait for him to raise his rotten head.”
Janice is quiet for a while. “You don’t think he’d come after the rest of us, do you?”
Dale’s pause stretches out forever. “I don’t know what he’d do at this point.”
“Did we do the right thing bringing him here?”
“It’s the safest place for him, Jan.”
I press my ear to the door during the pregnant pause. There has to be more. I need to hear it.
Finally, she says, “But having him here makes it unsafe for the rest of us.”
Janice has a very good point.
T EN
Sunday afternoon, Jill has arranged a sort of date for Gretchen and me. It’s exactly two weeks after what was supposed to be our first date. Gretchen’s body and our mini-forest seem a world away and absolutely unappealing, but Jill begs me to host one night of normalcy.
Everyone makes a big deal about it. When the doorbell chimes, Janice hustles the little boys upstairs for a night of new video games and junk food.
Jill opens the door to a huge hug from Gretchen. My hands are firmly in my pockets, but I tilt my head a little. “Hey.”
We’re standing here—them trying desperately to make normal conversation and me staring at the walls—waiting for Tucker and Grant Blakely. We had anticipated a much bigger gathering, but no one else is coming. Some parents won’t let their kids anywhere near me.
To her credit, Jill screamed, “Screw your mother!” into her phone more than once while she was inviting people.
I’m being punished again. Wasn’t the murder enough? Hell, wasn’t my childhood enough? This is exactly why I never told anyone what was going on in my house. Well, the embarrassment, and the fact that I didn’t want people to be scared to hang out with me.
Tucker, who is closest to his normal self, shows up with Oreos and orange soda. “Glad to see you alive, buddy.”
I manage a half-smile.
Grant Blakely is close behind him with three giant pizza boxes.
In the kitchen, they all dig into the pies. Jill serves me a huge slice. “Here, Xander, you need to eat.”
I sit at the kitchen table, because everyone’s at the kitchen table, but I’m still full. Or not hungry.
Gretchen is watching me. She’s quieter than I’ve ever seen her. “I thought sausage and onion was your favorite?”
Is it? This party was a terrible idea. It’s too soon for all of this. It will always be too soon.
A year ago, I would have savored this moment. Hell,
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