If Only (6 page)

Danny

There is no way Danny is going to tell Pam that the kids at school are saying she was raped. Not a chance. The thought makes Danny ill. He'd felt paralyzed when Pam came to his room. He could barely look at her.

On Monday morning, Danny wakes up early and lies in bed thinking about how he's sort of promised Pam that he'll talk to Dad and wondering what he should say. Then he falls back to sleep, and when he wakes up again, Dad is pounding on Pam's door and it's too late. He lies there, frozen.

“Go away!” Pam yells.

A thread of fear twists inside his stomach.

He lets his breath out slowly when Dad's footsteps fade down the hall.

So far the week is going okay. Dad must have given up, because Pam stays home on Monday and Tuesday. Danny misses her at school, even though they don't usually hang out together.

Danny knows that kids are still talking about it. Sometimes when he walks into a class a conversation will stop abruptly, and he can feel curious eyes on him. He's passed Stacey a few times in the hallway, but she walks right past him and never asks about Pam.

By the time Danny gets home from school each day, Pam has got as far as changing out of her pajamas into jeans and a baggy T-shirt. She is usually wrapped in her quilt in the living room, watching
TV
. Danny goes right to his room to work on the model. He has almost finished painting all the pieces. It is taking longer than it should, but he wants to stretch it out and make it last, because when he is working on the model, his mind empties of everything else.

He is thinking about his model in science class on Wednesday afternoon when the principal comes on the
PA
system and says, “Will Danny Sanders please come to the office?”

“Whoooaa, Danny,” says Mike, one of the class smart alecks, and some kids laugh. Danny shrugs as if he doesn't care, but his stomach tightens into a knot as he walks down the hall.

Danny has never been right inside the principal's office, only in the front part where the secretary is, and he doesn't know if he is supposed to sit down.

“Have a seat, Danny,” the principal, Mr. Allen, says. He doesn't look angry, but he does look serious.

Danny perches on the edge of a chair. Mr. Allen sits behind his desk and leans back. He studies Danny for a moment and then says, “You know anything about lights being smashed behind the school on the weekend?”

“No, sir,” Danny says. His heart starts to hammer so loudly that he is sure Mr. Allen will hear it and know he is lying.

“Someone told me they saw you hanging around there Saturday afternoon.” Mr. Allen pauses. “That you had a rock.”

“Not me,” Danny says. “I mean,” he corrects himself, “I was there, I was walking home from visiting my grandfather, but I didn't break any lights.”

“That's it?” Mr. Allen says.

“Yeah,” Danny says.

Mr. Allen makes a teepee with his fingers. “You doing okay? You want to talk about things?”

“No.”

“I guess you can go, then.”

Danny knows he should feel relieved, but he doesn't. He feels sick when he lies.

He tries to get up, but he is glued to the chair. He studies
a hole in the knee of his jeans. He can feel Mr. Allen's eyes on him. Heat rises up his neck.

He takes a deep breath. “Would you have to tell my dad about the lights?” He can hear his voice shaking. His legs are shaking too, and he thinks that he is teetering on the edge of serious trouble.

Mr. Allen is silent for a moment. “That depends,” he says finally. “What do
you
think we should do?”

Danny feels his heartbeat slow. “I can pay for them. I've got my allowance—” He stops. That
'
s stupid. There
'
s no way his allowance will be enough. “Maybe I could work around the school or something.”

“That's a good idea,” Mr. Allen says. “I know that Mrs. Callaghan in the library needs some help. She's ordered lots of new books that need cataloguing and shelving.”

“I could do that,” Danny says quickly.

“Then we've got a deal,” Mr. Allen says. “And I don't think we need to bring your dad into this. I'll talk to Mrs. Callaghan and you can start tomorrow at lunch hour.”

“Okay,” Danny says.

“And Danny, tell Pam we miss her.”

Danny nods.

“Her teachers are putting some work together for her to do at home. You can pick it up here at the end of the day.”

“Thank you,” Danny says.

Mr. Allen smiles. “You're a good kid.”

Danny stands up to go. Mr. Allen is wrong. A good kid would have protected his sister.

Danny takes his time walking back to science class. He is thinking about how Mr. Allen has given him a break and that it's probably because of Pam. The hall is empty except for a girl with short black hair, bent over an open locker.

It's Billie, that girl who used to phone Pam when she and Danny were new here. Danny had never really understood why Pam didn't like Billie, though Pam had tried to explain to him that it had something to do with the weird clothes Billie wore and how she didn't seem to care what anyone thought of her.

Billie is wearing purple pants today and a bright yellow T-shirt with a tie-dyed design on it. It's different, all right, but Danny doesn't see what's so bad about it. In fact, when you look at Billie, you want to smile.

Billie straightens and says, “Hi.”

Danny says hi back and keeps walking, but then Billie says, “Wait a sec.” Danny turns around.

Billie speaks quickly. “I saw Mr. Allen asking Mrs. Harris
for some math homework for Pam. It's really hard, the stuff we're working on right now. It's decimals. I could come over and help her with it.”

Danny doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything at first. Then he mumbles, “I'll help her. Our class has already done decimals, and it was actually pretty easy.”

Right away he wishes he hadn't said that. It sounds like he thinks he's smarter than Billie, but he doesn't know how to take it back. And the truth is, there's no way Pam will want Billie to come over.

“I gotta get back to class,” he says.

“Me too,” Billie says. “I'm supposed to be in the washroom. But please, tell Pam I'm sorry about what happened.”

“Okay,” Danny says.

He has never talked to Billie before, and he doesn't know her at all. He watches her take a binder out of her locker, shut the door and turn the lock. “It's not true,” he blurts out. “What everyone is saying. That she was raped.”

He stops, stunned that he has actually said the word
raped
out loud.

“Not everyone is saying that.” Billie's dark brown eyes look at Danny steadily. “And honestly, who would believe anything that comes out of Julie Glassen's mouth? She's kind of admitted that she doesn't really know what happened.”

Danny isn't sure if what he feels is gratitude or just relief. “Look,” he says, “I can ask Pam. About you coming over, I mean.”

“Great.” Billie glances at her watch. “Ten more minutes left of
PE
. I better go. I'll see you around.”

“Yeah,” Danny says.

If they were walking the same way, they could have kept talking. But the gym is down by the office. For a second, Danny thinks about making up some excuse to go back that way. But then Billie is gone and it's too late, and anyway, she might think it was weird. It isn't as if they are friends.

Pam

“I'll be there in ten minutes,” Carol says.

I only answered the phone because no one else did and I thought it might be Stacey.

I can't think of any excuses fast enough. And I'm too tired to fight. “Okay,” I say.

Danny is invited too, but he wants to work on his model. He brought home a pile of homework for me, with some story about that girl called Billie wanting to come over and help me. Forget it. I don't need help, and if I did, I wouldn't pick Billie.

I'm going to Carol's for supper. There and back. Nowhere else. It sounds easy but it's not. This will be the first time I've left the house since it happened. I won't be able to eat a thing. I'm already planning to use homework as an excuse to come home early.

When Carol arrives, her eyes widen when she sees me.

My hair.

I didn't bother trying to fix it today. It's beyond hope.

Prince is sitting in the back seat of her car. He sticks his nose into the front and licks my hand. I'm afraid Carol's going to want to talk about what happened, but instead she tells me a story about how Prince took another dog's ball at the park. It takes up the whole drive, and I don't have to say anything.

“We're having spaghetti,” Carol says when we get inside her place. “The sauce is made and I've just got to boil the noodles. I'll fix a salad too. Maybe while I do that you could feed Prince.”

She shows me where the sack of dog food is, and I dig out three scoops of kibble and put them in his dish. It makes me laugh, the way Prince attacks the food. Carol grins too and says, “You'd think I starve him. He's actually spoiled rotten.”

“My grandparents had a dog called Jack,” I say. “The Fourth or Fifth. We're not sure.”

“That's a good dog name,” Carol says. “Do your grandparents live near here?”

“My Nana died. Pop's in a nursing home. But when they had the dog, we all lived together on their farm up near Aldergrove.”

“I always wanted to live on a farm,” Carol says. She's slicing cucumbers for the salad, and I sit down on a chair at the kitchen table. Carol has put a pot of water on the stove and turned the burner on under another pot at the back. In a few minutes, there's a burbling sound and a delicious smell. The kitchen is full of colors: yellow curtains and a red flowered tablecloth and bright green oven mitts hanging on a hook.

I tell Carol a little bit about the farm while she finishes making the salad. I tell her about how we moved there from Sudbury when Danny and I were ten and lived in the little brown house behind Pop and Nana's house. I tell her about the cornfield where Danny and I played hide-and-seek, and the view from the top of the hill.

When I tell her that Danny wishes we still lived there, she says, “And how about you?”

“I don't know,” I say. “I'm not like Danny. He wants everything to be the same. I want to try new stuff.”

“Good for you,” Carol says.

She serves us plates of spaghetti with thick tomato sauce, slices of sourdough bread and bowls of salad. Everything tastes so good, and suddenly I'm starving.

“Save room for dessert,” Carol says. “I've got a luscious lemon cake I picked up at the bakery.”

Just then I hear canned laughter from a
TV
nearby, and I look at Carol, surprised. I've forgotten that she lives in a duplex.

“My neighbor,” says Carol. “The walls are awfully thin in this place.”

I wipe up the last bit of sauce with my bread. “Do you mind the noise?”

“Not really. The last tenants had a baby, and I
did
mind that. It cried all the time—must have had colic or something. This guy is single. He's nice. Takes Prince out for walks sometimes when I'm at work.”

I haven't really thought about what Carol does every day. “Where do you work?”

“I'm a hairdresser. I work in a salon called Silver Scissors.”

“Cool,” I say.

“I could do something with your hair,” Carol says.

“No thanks.” A door inside me slams shut. “I'm kind of getting used to it like this.”

“Mmmm,” Carol says. “I think you might be a trendsetter.”

Prince barks then, deep in his throat. He's sitting by the back door, staring straight ahead. He barks again.

“His ball is out there on the deck.” Carol stacks our two plates. “Can you get it for him, Pam, while I cut us some cake?”

I open the door, which leads onto a small deck at the top of a staircase. I spot the ball, wedged behind the legs of a barbecue. I step outside. A misty rain is falling. I pick up the ball and then lean over the railing. I look over the backyard, past Prince's doghouse and an old garden shed to the chain-link fence that separates the yard from the railroad trail.

It's foggy and clammy, exactly like the day it happened. I feel nothing at first, as if my brain has been erased.

A sudden, sharp pain stabs my chest. Everything happens lightning fast after that. A wave of dizziness makes me grab the railing, and sweat breaks out over my back and neck. My knees cave in, and I slide to the floor of the deck. I'm terrified because I can't breathe.

I can't
breathe
.

Suddenly Carol is beside me, her arms around my shoulders. She tells me over and over that I'm okay. I'm safe. My lungs fill with air, and I feel completely drained. I want to curl up in a ball and sleep.

“I don't know what happened,” I say. I start to cry.

“You panicked,” Carol says. “Oh Pam, I should have thought…It was seeing the trail. I shouldn't have let you come out here. It's my fault.”

She helps me stand up, my legs like porridge, and we go back inside. The lemon cake is on the counter, two pale yellow slices resting on plates. I'll be sick if I eat one bite.

I wipe the tears off my cheeks. I should never have left my house. I squeeze my hands into fists and whisper, “I want to go home.”

Danny

Danny likes working in the library. The librarian, Mrs. Callaghan, in her gray skirt and soft turquoise cardigan, looks a little bit like Nana. She's expecting Danny on Thursday at lunchtime and has a cart of books ready for him to sort and put in their proper places on the shelves.

There is only one other person in the library, a boy Danny doesn't know, taking notes from a book at a table in the back corner. Hugh had wanted to come, but Danny said no. Danny told him that Mr. Allen wouldn't like it, but really Danny just wants to be by himself. He likes the quiet; the only sounds are the rustling of wax paper as Mrs. Callaghan eats a sandwich at her desk, the singing of her kettle in the little back room and the boy's flipping of pages.

Danny finishes just as the bell rings. Hugh is waiting for him by the lockers. A good thing about Hugh is that he never really takes offense. He asks Danny if it was boring working in the library and then launches into a story about how his brother Martin is coming home next week from Berkeley on his way to his job up north. When Danny looks blank, Hugh says, “Remember, he's not living at home this summer. He's only coming for a week. He's collecting lichen samples. I told you.”

Danny says, “Yeah, I remember,” but he doesn't really. Hugh is always going on and on about Martin, and Danny doesn't always pay attention. When he met Martin at Christmastime, he didn't see what was so great about him. Martin had nodded at him and then spent the rest of the afternoon buried behind the newspaper in the living room. But Danny has to admit, he looks brainy.

Danny and Hugh walk back to class. They turn down a hallway and Danny spots Billie, a flash of red and orange, walking quickly in the opposite direction on the other side of a stream of kids. He starts to smile at her, but it's too late; she's past him. Danny turns to see if he can spot her, but she has disappeared.

On the way
home from school, Danny stops at a small convenience store near their house, called the Bluebird Market. He hadn't bothered to make a lunch this morning, and he's starving. He has enough money to buy a bag of chips and a Coke.

A bell over the door jingles when he goes inside. A man
with red hair tied back in a ponytail is sitting on a stool by the till, reading a magazine. He glances at Danny and then looks down again quickly.

Danny wonders where the owner, Mr. Townley, is. He's friendly to all the kids who come to his store, often showing Danny the new car magazines that have come in and once even treating him to a free chocolate bar.

Danny picks a bag of chips off a rack and then goes to the cooler at the back of the store to get a bottle of Coke. He feels the man's eyes on him. He probably thinks Danny is going to shoplift something. Danny has never stolen anything in his life, but the man makes him nervous.

Danny takes the chips and the Coke up to the counter and digs in his pocket for his money. While the man is ringing them in, Danny glances around. His eyes stop on a green jacket hanging on a hook behind the counter. There are two yellow stripes at the bottom of one of the sleeves.

An army coat.

Danny feels a shiver run down his back.

Probably hundreds of guys have jackets just like it, but he can't stop staring at it.

The man has pushed Danny's change across the counter without meeting Danny's eyes and is staring down at his magazine again. Danny has a creepy feeling that he isn't reading it, just waiting for him to go. The back of his neck prickles. He scoops up his change, grabs the chips and Coke, mumbles “Thanks” and leaves the store.

When he gets outside, he walks quickly, almost running. His heart is beating fast.

It's just a jacket.

All the way home, Danny tries desperately to remember. It had happened so fast. It had almost been dark outside…

All Danny can remember for sure is the knife.

On Friday morning Billie is waiting for Danny beside his locker. Danny's by himself; Hugh has another dentist appointment and won't be coming until after lunch. Billie's wearing the same bright yellow tie-dyed T-shirt but this time with faded blue jeans, and she looks almost normal. A bracelet around her slim brown wrist looks like it's been woven out of colored strings.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi.” Danny's been avoiding people all week, wary of what they'll say or ask, but he doesn't mind Billie.

Billie's holding a paper bag. She gives it to Danny, and he can see that there is something inside wrapped in newspaper. Her brown eyes are direct. “This is for Pam.”

“Oh,” Danny says, surprised.

Billie waits. Danny feels awkward, holding the bag and wondering if he should ask what it is or just mind his own business. He knows Pam is going to think this is weird, because she hardly even knows Billie. He decides to say nothing and puts the bag in his locker. “I'll take it home after school,” he says.

“It's nothing big,” Billie says softly. “Just something I thought might make her feel better. How is she doing?”

Danny is about to say that Pam is fine because that's what he's been telling the teachers all week when they ask.
Pam is fine. She's coming back to school soon. She's got a cold. That's why she's away
.

But he doesn't want to lie to Billie. “I don't know,” he says.

He
doesn't
know. Sometime in the last week he's lost Pam, and it's his fault. He has a sudden urge to tell Billie about the man in the store. He's been thinking about him a lot since yesterday. He wants to tell someone, even though he's not exactly sure what there is to tell. That when he looked at the guy's jacket, he got a funny feeling? That maybe, just maybe, this could be the guy? Danny can't talk to Dad, and he can't imagine going to Constable Diggins with such a flimsy story, but he thinks Billie will get it.

“Billie—” he begins, and then the bell rings. Kids surge up the hallway and someone jostles Danny's elbow.

Billie sighs. “I gotta go. If I get any more lates, my dad will ground me. Say hi to Pam.”

Danny nods. “See you.”

“See you,” Billie says.

Danny watches Billie dissolve into the crowd. It's noisy. Two boys are shoving each other, and they bump into Danny; a teacher yells at a girl to stop running. There is a strong smell of sweaty running shoes and a hint of pizza. Danny feels like he is not part of any of this. It's as if he's surrounded by a thin glass wall that keeps him separate.

The second bell rings. There are only a few stragglers left in the hallway. Danny takes a book out of his locker, and the paper bag catches his eye. He's curious, but he's not going to look inside because it feels like prying. It's between Pam and Billie. He frowns. There is something he can't figure out. Why does Billie care so much?