April Fools (6 page)

"What about your math test?" Belinda broke into the nervous chatter, receiving only a shrug in response. "Oh, Hildy, you didn't --"

"Hey, it wasn't just me -- the whole class flunked! And anyway, it wasn't your fault," Hildy said quickly. She finished zipping her front and flashed a carefree smile. "Belinda, come on, it's only a grade!"

"You haven't graduated yet, you know."

"I know, I know," Hildy mumbled. She shifted her books to her other arm, and the two gu*ls started slowly toward the street. "Anyway, after what happened last night, who could study, huh?" Her glance slid sideways, her voice shaking a httle. "Frank swears he didn't do it, but I think maybe he's joking."

Belinda felt a painful weight tightening in her chest. She hadn't slept a wink all night, and school had gone by in a blur. "Of course you do. It'd be too scary not to."

"But it has to be Frank. I mean . . . who else could it possibly be?" Hildy looked so intently into Belinda's eyes that Belinda looked away.

"The police were at my house yesterday," she said softly.

Hildy stopped and stared at her.

"Someone called in and said I'd had an accident."

Hildy looked skeptical. "Are you sure they had the right name? Maybe somebody got the message wrong."

"They said my name. And they were really suspicious, too -- I could tell they thought something was going on. God, I was scared --"

"Oh, Belinda --" Hildy shook her head chidingly. "It was probably just someone --"

"Someone who? Someone Frank? Or someone who left their footprints up on the hill that night . . . and finally went to the cops?" Belinda walked away, leaving Hildy to stare after her, openmouthed.

"Belinda! Hey, wait a minute --"

"I have to go." Belinda saw her bus coming and raced to the opposite corner.

"But I need to talk to you! About the senior picnic!" Hildy's voice followed her, but Belinda pretended not to hear.

Finding a seat, she closed her eyes, reliving the terror of last night -- Hildy's pale face and accusations -- Frank's denials. "Hey, you two, come on! April Fools' Day is over, remember?" He'd laughed at them and teased them all evening, but for the first time Belinda could tell it had shaken Hildy up.

Now she felt the bus slow down and she got off to transfer. Cobbs had told her he'd pick her up this afternoon, but she didn't want to have to depend on anyone. Also, this gave her the option of leaving whenever she chose. When she reached her final stop she realized that the swank neighborhood where the Thornes lived lay just on the other side of the park. She hadn't been to the park since last summer, but she knew her way around well. With its picnic grounds, its pubhc gardens, and small amusement park area, it had been a frequent holiday treat when she was growing up, when Mom and Dad were happy and they were a real family. ...

Forcing that thought away, Belinda started off, taking the main route through the gardens. The landscape design had changed through the years, old brick walkways now going nowhere, wandering in perpetual circles. As pathways had eventually fallen into disrepair and closed, older areas of the park had also been barricaded and shut off, yet she still remembered the shortcuts and used them when

there was no one around to see. Slipping through a hole in one of the fences, she cut across an old, abandoned parking lot, now a graveyard for junked cars and outdated parts of mechanical rides. From this spot, she could hardly hear any park activity at all -- it was like being in some alien world, surrounded by hulking metal monstrosities.

A windblown leaf scraped across the pavement, and she jumped. She glanced back over her shoulder, suddenly uneasy. Overhead the sun struggled weakly through a restless veil of clouds, and the afternoon was chilly. Winter had lingered late and gusty this year, with frost still falling at night. She buried her chin into the collar of her jacket and rammed her fists into her pockets, her fingers closing unexpectedly around a thick wad of cloth. Puzzled, she pulled it out and began stretching it apart, trying to remember where it had come from. Somehow it had gone unnoticed through the wash all balled up in her pocket.

And then she remembered.

This was the jacket she'd been wearing the night of the accident.

She'd been so wet and muddy that she'd washed all her clothes at Hildy's that very night. She must have forgotten about the rag she'd picked up, the rag she'd held to her bleeding face. This was the first time she'd even worn that jacket since then.

There were still bloodstains on the rag. Except now she could see that it wasn't really a rag at all, but a handkerchief, torn at one comer, right through an embroidered A.

Belinda shoved the thing back into her pocket and zipped her jacket up tighter against the chill, hurrying the last few yards to another high fence, letting herself back into the mainstream of the park. She was reheved when she saw her exit just ahead; the house was easy to find from there. She pressed the intercom buzzer on the gate and identified herself to a bored-sounding Cobbs, who was holding the front door open for her when she reached it. As soon as she stepped inside, Belinda heard Mrs. Thome^s voice in the living room.

"Oh, Belinda. You came back, that^s good." The woman greeted her as if she really couldn't have cared less. "Adam's hiding, as usual. Go on up." She glanced in annoyance toward the balcony, then gestured at Cobbs. "My nerves, Cobbs -- my nerves are going. Be sure and pack all my pills. And help me find something to wear. I have to catch that ungodly little commuter flignt in less than three hours -- I don't have any idea what to wear --"

"How about a gag, madame?"

"What about my bag? How should / know where the bags are, Cobbs? That's your job!"

"Is there anything I can do, Mrs. Thome?" Belinda asked, but the woman brushed past her up the stairs.

"A business trip, Belinda," she said crisply. "I don't know how long I'll be gone. I shouldn't go, of course -- I know I shouldn't go. Fred's lying there in the hospital, and what will people say? But it is his company, after all, and they'll do all they can to take advantage of him now."

Belinda couldn't believe what she was hearing. Cobbs seemed unperturbed.

"Take my advice, Belinda, and think twice before you marry for money -- or convenience. It gets harder and harder to keep up appearances, and someone's always waiting for you to slip up . . . make a stupid mistake." She pulled a cigarette from the pocket of her robe and tossed it away again impatiently. "But what can I do?" She looked at Cobbs, annoyed. "What can I do, I ask you? Fred doesn't even know me. I can't do anything for Fred."

"No, madame."

"If I stay, I'll go crazy."

"Yes, madame."

"Between Fred and Adam, I'll just go out of my mind, won't I, Cobbs?"

"Right into the straitjacket, madame."

"So the best thing I can do for Fred is to stay away and leave him in peace, right, Cobbs?"

"I'm sure of that, madame."

"New York this time, can you believe that?" Mrs. Thome looked angrily at Belinda. "I was only there last month -- why can't they have problems somewhere else for a change?"

Belinda stared at her, dismayed. "But what about Adam?"

Mrs. Thome paused on the top step, her face confused. **What about Adam?"

'Well ..." Belinda looked back at Cobbs, who remained expressionless. "I mean . . . with the accident and everything --^"

"/ didn^t ask him to come here, did I?" she said coolly. "He's not my responsibility. I'm sure you and Cobbs can handle his needs." Her eyes narrowed on Belinda disapprovingly. "If he was really important to anyone around here, his father would have had him come while he was still alive enough to enjoy him."

The door slammed behind her, and Belinda realized she'd been gripping the bannister so hard that her hand hurt. She felt a lump in her throat and looked furiously at Cobbs, who was inspecting a tabletop for dust.

"How could she say that?" Belinda asked tightly. "How can she be so -- heartless! Doesn't she care about anyone?"

"Yes," Cobbs nodded. "Mrs. Thorne."

"I know Adam heard her, he couldn't help but hear all that --"

"The Statue of Liberty herself couldn't help but hear all that," Cobbs said, giving the table a quick dab with the end of his sleeve. "Perhaps you should go up, miss."

"Does Adam know I'm coming?"

"He'll be overjoyed, no doubt."

Belinda sighed and made her way to Adam's room. When her knock brought no response, she put her mouth close to the door. "Adam? It's Belinda. Are you ready to study?"

No answer.

Belinda turned the knob and peeked in. Total darkness just like before . . . the silhouette by the window. She could feel his belligerence even from

here, and it touched her with sudden cold. Again she recalled the photograph on the windowsill, the handsome face, the daring expression. . . . Me against the world, it had said. And she knew that he had heard his stepmother's comments outside and something told her that he had heard comments just hke them all his life, that he had grown used to them and now expected them --

"We don't have to study today if you don't want to. We can just talk. About anything you want --"

The silence went on and on. She knew they were in a contest of wills, and her sympathy battled with her determination. IVs obvious he doesrCt want you here, so why don't you just go and spare yourself all this hassle -- you don't need this right now, and Adam certainly doesn't need you, and you're just upsetting him, and what possible good can it do anyone --

Someone knocked on the door behind her, and Belinda nearly jumped out of her skin. Cobbs came into the room without hesitation and set something down on the table.

"I don't want it." Adam sounded surly.

"I'm sure you don't," Cobbs repHed. "God forbid you should take anything to improve your disposition." He turned and left the room again, and Be-hnda stifled the urge to call him back.

There was a slow scraping from the corner, as if something were uncoiling. Belinda thought of the snakes downstairs and shivered.

"So," Adam Thorne said, "you want to talk."

"Only if you do."

"About anything I want?" His voice was mocking, smooth, wrapping around her like an invisible web. "Then ... I choose you."

"Me?" Belinda glanced selfconsciously toward the shadows. "Oh, I don't think that'd be very interesting. I'd rather -- "

"You said ^anything.' Why shouldn't it be you?"

Belinda's heart fluttered in her throat. "Well ... all right then. What would you hke to know?"

There was a long, thoughtful silence. Then, "Secrets," Adam said at last. "Everyone has them. Deep, dark ones way down inside."

"Secrets?" She forced out the words in a shaky rush. "But it wouldn't be fair, would it? For me to tell you my secrets if you didn't tell me yours?"

There was a sudden clinking of glass, as if something had overturned. Belinda started forward, then stopped herself as Adam cursed.

"Are you all right?" she asked carefully.

He sounded irritated. "Yes. Don't come any closer."

Belinda sighed, grateful for the distraction. "Is that medicine that Cobbs brings you? Are you in a lot of pain?"

The pause was wary. "Sometimes."

"Your legs?"

There was a soft sound; she imagined him shrugging at her, feeUng trapped and hostile there in the dark because she wouldn't go away.

"Yes," he said finally.

She nodded, her voice unnaturally light. "I fell off a ladder once. I didn't think I'd hurt myself, but

the next day I was so bruised and sore I could hardly move. I can't imagine how you'd feel after ..." she forced out the words, "an accident."

He didn't answer so she eased herself down onto the floor, her back against the wall.

"I looked over your lesson plans with my principal at school. He said you could still graduate -- that you can take exams late and it probably wouldn't be that hard for you to catch up on what you've missed. He's talked to your school -- he said people there had been asking about you -- did your stepmother tell you?"

"Of course," Adam said sarcastically. "Surely you couldn't have missed that affectionate display a minute ago."

Sympathetic anger bubbled up and Belinda nearly choked on it. "She probably doesn't even realize what she said -- she's probably just so upset about your father -- "

"One thing you have to remember about dear old Gloria," Adam said. "When my father dies, she'll be a very rich widow."

'Well... I... I thought maybe we could decide on some kind of schedule today . . . how often you'd like me to come. I don't want to tire you out or get in the way so --"

"Get in the way?" he suppressed a harsh laugh. "Of what? My busy social life?"

"Well... I only meant -- "

"I know what you meant; I don't need your pity. I've been shoved off on you because they don't know what else to do with me, that's all."

"Oh, Adam, Fm sure that's not true, I --"

"I didn't ask to be here. I was sent. Because Mom didn't know *how to deal with me.' I think that's the way she put it."

"But I heard she was really worried about you . . . that she thought a change of scene would be good for you."

"Good for me?" Adam echoed derisively. "God, it's so funny, isn't it?"

**What is?"

"How all the people who don't even know me are suddenly such experts on what's good for me." He seemed to be considering this, and Belinda spoke up timidly.

"I'm sure they're only trying to help."

"Help?" The deep voice mocked her. "Now, that's an interesting thought. And what about you, Be-hnda Swanson? Who are you trying to help?"

A cold, slow chill crawled over her as he gave a deep laugh in his throat. She sat there in the darkness, pinned against the wall by eyes she couldn't see . . . rising to her feet. . . feeling behind her for the door.

"Where are you going? You just got here."

"I have to get home. I -- forgot I have something to do --"

The voice sounded coldly amused. "Uh-oh . . . was it something I said?"

Belinda stumbled out into the hallway, her heart pounding, her feet going quickly, blindly down the stairs. It can^t be him -- it can't be -- yet he'd been playing with her up there, toying with her, and all